Achilles Heel
by Baffoonery
Summary: Hunter is under the impression he has Sebastian all figured out. Unfortunately for him, Sebastian is more than capable of looking after himself. One night, their little game spins wildly out of control, and Hunter isn't sure he wants to go back. This is the evolution of their complex relationship.
1. the greek incident

**A/N **So I hope this isn't too OOC, but I wanted to explore Hunter/Sebastian's dynamic. Hints of Seblaine, but definitely at its core a intense Huntbastian fic. Reviews are wonderful.

* * *

Hunter's supposed to be studying. He's not supposed be to be stealing glances at his scantily-clad roommate every ten seconds.

Every time he looks back at his textbook, the Attic Greek swims before his eyes, spinning faster and faster until he has to shut his eyes tightly. In the darkness, Sebastian's bare chest is tattooed with a dead language.

"Why do you even study that." Sebastian's bored tone was flat, with no inflection to indicate it had been a question (with Sebastian, it was rarely ever anything more than an insult or a statement).

Hunter opened his eyes and stared at the passage he was supposed to be translating. Achilles and Patroclus: friends as children, lovers as men. Two become one. After Patroclus is killed, Achilles grieves and, spurned on by his love for Patroclus, finally dons his armour and goes to battle. He dies from a fatal wound to his heel. His ghost meets Patroclus in the fields of the afterlife. Til death do us part, indeed.

Of course, it wasn't likely that Sebastian would pick up on the delicate nuances of the tale. He'd tried explaining Greek prose to Sebastian before, and the other boy had winked and commented cattily, "And I'm sure they weren't even _remotely _bi-curious."

Hunter had half-heartedly sneered and turned away. He hated being bested. Sebastian was good at that. Too often was Hunter's carefully crafted mask tossed aside by the other boy; it was like a constant game of peek-a-boo, except it had long stopped being fun for Hunter. He lived in a perpetual state of frustration. Sebastian got under his skin like no other – and yet, there _was_ no other in Dalton with whom he could spend hours, lounging in the common room, bickering disinterestedly, reading or playing chess, sunlight bouncing off dark, expensive furniture and making Sebastian's skin gleam bronze. The curse of the wealthy. Hunter smiled bitterly to himself. Look, but don't touch! His parents still thought he was dating that pretty blonde piece from the East coast.

Sebastian, reclining like a marble statue on _Hunter's _bed, stretched out a long leg and prodded Hunter's side. His only attempt at modesty were the thin pyjama pants he wore, conscientiously pulled low enough on his hipbones to suggest, but not reveal.

Hunter exhaled heavily through his nose, walls slotting into place like clapboard (and that was what he felt, when with Sebastian: cheap, uncomplicated). Acting as if he had been on the verge of some great thought, he put down his fountain pen, fussily screwing the cap back on, then turned fully in his chair to observe Sebastian with faux irritation.

"Could you repeat your banal question?" Hunter asked silkily, voice as delicate as a blade.

"Thanks for giving me your full attention, Hunt. I noticed." Sebastian grinned lazily, hair flopping artistically before one hazy eye. Hunter seethed, though with what he couldn't determine. "I _said,_" and here he tipped his head back until it lolled on its stem, throat bared, "why _are_ you into all that homo stuff?"

Hunter felt extremely uncomfortable. Why was Sebastian able to pick apart every meticulous action Hunter made? To others he appeared aloof and aristocratic, like a prince chatting to the stableboys. But Sebastian made Hunter feel like a clumsy child tugging on his mother's skirt. Tolerated and humoured.

Hunter didn't sniff, but he did the next best thing, which was to glare down his Roman nose. It gave Hunter some comfort that Sebastian was so fixated on this ambiguous aspect of his personality; he clearly hadn't looked much further below the surface. Sebastian could glance at someone, throw out a barbed comment, and he'd consider the matter finished. Hunter had a short temper, and this had been solved in the first week by Sebastian, delighted at this new plaything (though he hadn't been so delighted at his split lip; Hunter did regret that a little, but it had made Sebastian look surly and dangerous, which he liked). Despite his military upbringing, Hunter still lost it sometimes when Sebastian pushed him too far. He'd toned it back since that first encounter – but he hadn't been able to forget that that flash of dark calculation in Sebastian's eyes. Now Sebastian had found a tear in his fabric, and he wasn't content with only worrying it occasionally. He needed for it to split.

"They are extremely powerful narratives," Hunter answered coldly. "I wouldn't expect an uncultured mind such as yours to understand."

"Oh, I understand, all right." Sebastian dropped back onto only one elbow, so his body was twisted magnificently towards Hunter. It was all he could do to keep glaring into Sebastian's very bright eyes. The lamplight cast odd shadows to play on the wall behind him. "You are unable to procure some classical male 'bonding' for yourself, so you have to live through the beery stories of scabby old warriors who have nothing better to do, seemingly, than feast, make long speeches about _everything_, go to war, and lament about yonder farm boy's soft, golden buttocks."

Hunter set his jaw.

Sebastian crowed with delight. "Why is it, my boy, that for all of your protestations, you still insist upon getting all uptight about some gay lovin' –"

"It's tradition," Hunter bit out. Almost immediately, he wished he'd kept his mouth shut. Rising to Sebastian's frequent baits never ended well. On top of that, Hunter was especially strung out tonight. He had to finish his Greek before tomorrow… But for some sick reason, he'd rather verbally spar with Sebastian and steal looks at the other boy's hairless, tanned chest, than work. Hunter felt like tearing out his hair. Not only did he have a perverted need to consistently throw himself at Sebastian's mercy (what images _that_ conjured up), but his academic standards could slip because of it…

Suddenly, as Hunter became aware of his situation - pinning Sebastian to the bed with words and eyes - he couldn't really bring himself to care too much. You can't just give a parched man one sip of water, after all.

Sebastian's eyebrows rose almost to his hairline. "_Tradition?_" he repeated with genuine incredulity.

"The classics," Hunter translated stiffly. "It's traditional to study them."

"Yeah, perhaps in the 1800s." Sebastian snorted, giving Hunter an amused look. "You should live in the present, darling, it's far nicer. You should _also," _he studied the length of his leg with feigned interest, "study a modern language."

Overcome suddenly by a rush of warm affection, Hunter grinned, but swiftly disguised it with a sneer when he remembered the game they were playing. If it was one thing that Hunter privately found the sweetest about Sebastian, it was his constant allusions to Europe – or more specifically, to France: it wasn't uncommon for him to start a sentence with, "When I was in Paris." Hunter chalked these feelings of fondness up to friendship. Plenty of the other Warblers would roll their eyes and mock scoff when Sebastian dropped French asides in conversation.

Nevertheless, Hunter wasn't in the mood this evening to completely let down his guard. It was different when they'd been in each other's company for a few hours and barriers had flickered and eventually gone out. Both of them were edgy tonight. Sebastian seemed determined to get a rise out of Hunter; Hunter was determined to remain steadfast and to keep a hold of his temper. Their thinly-veiled banter was born out of boredom and a need to let off steam. An eye for an eye, et cetera. How tiresome, Hunter thought.

"And what language would that be, Seb?" Hunter leaned back in his chair, hands poised over the arms of his chair, never without his military bearing.

Sebastian stretched ostentatiously. Hunter couldn't stop his eyes dipping along the expanse of taut muscles and skin. When their eyes met, Sebastian grinned darkly, dangerous as a cat. "Vous ne pouvez pas obtenir assez, hein?" He chuckled to himself and sat up.

"You're so predictable," Hunted replied after a pause. He was a little unnerved, as he always was whenever Sebastian started spouting off long phrases in French. Hunter would say something in Greek, just to show that two could play at the douchebag game, but it wasn't quite as quick or musical. He'd have to struggle for a good five minutes to figure out the correct tenses.

"Correction." Sebastian swung his legs over the side of the bed, planting them firmly on the wooden floor. "You're the predictable one."

Hunter suddenly didn't like the glint in Sebastian's eyes. The mood had changed, and he couldn't tell what it was: had they reverted to their old routine, or was it something else entirely? Hunter was inclined to believe the atmosphere was much more dangerous that it had been before. They swung between grudging, startling acceptance, and unbridled hate. It was always a case of one-up with them both, until they dropped the pretences. But otherwise it escalated rapidly, spiralling out of control, and Hunter had to rein himself in until he did something he regretted.

Hunter was now in free fall. He groped blindly for a life saver.

"I have to get this Greek done, Smythe." Hunter's voice was cold. He could feel his hands shaking.

"Ah yes," Sebastian purred. His mouth had pulled up at an edge, exposing a sharp canine, giving him a foxy look. "Back to the homos."

Hunter hardly knew what came over him when he threw himself at Sebastian. A brief, fierce scuffle ensued, which ended with Sebastian pinned to the bed by Hunter, who was breathing heavily. Hunter, gripping Sebastian's shoulders, shook the other boy hard, heedless of any damage he might cause. All he could see was Sebastian's gleaming eyes, glittering with triumph and… fear?

"You think you're so clever," Hunter snarled, drunk on his physical power. The feeling of having Sebastian underneath him, meek as a lamb… His heart was humming in his chest. His head was spinning. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Hunter knew he should back away. Getting like this had been the ticket to military school. Singing like a bird had gotten him trapped in Dalton's cage. But he was giddy with this; it had been far too long since he'd shaken off the shackles. "You think you've got us all figured out. But what about you, Seb? Who's gonna figure you out?"

Sebastian's gaze dipped, and Hunter knew he'd found his trump card. "It's sure as hell not going to be that two-bit Anderson boy."

Growling, Sebastian reared up, pushing Hunter back. They struggled for dominance, but Hunter shoved Sebastian down, leaning close and using his extra strength to anchor Sebastian to the sheets. The lamplight made Sebastian's face angular and strange. Hunter couldn't see his eyes properly. Everything was swimming. He felt himself getting dragged further and further down into the abyss.

They remained like that for a moment, Hunter shaking with pent-up rage, Sebastian motionless.

"You really don't get it, do you?" Sebastian said eventually, his voice soft.

Before Hunter could respond, Sebastian had leant up and – with an unexpected thrill, Hunter knew what was going to happen – their lips met. Hunter responded immediately and against his better judgement, tipping his head to one side. Their mouths opened and tongues met, and it was wet and sloppy and exactly what Hunter had ever wanted.

Sebastian bit and brutally dominated the kiss. It was all Hunter could do to keep up. Slowly, Sebastian rose, until Hunter was on his lap, his hands still clinging to broad shoulders. And suddenly, Sebastian flipped them. Awkwardly, Hunter unlatched his mouth and wriggled upwards on the bed, his legs tangled beneath Sebastian's body. Sebastian's eyes gleamed like a demon's, his grin cruel and lascivious. He crawled up Hunter's form and shoved a knee between Hunter's own, nudging his erection with a thigh. Hunter bit his lip and hated himself. Sebastian grabbed Hunter's wrists and pinned them on either side of his head.

The next kiss was just as bruising and furious. Sebastian ground his hips into Hunter's, and they both gasped before lips were retaken. Hunter's mind was whirling faster and faster. He couldn't think any further past _more more more, _the heady scent and presence of Sebastian enveloping him. Nothing existed past the bed and the wall to Hunter's left, which flickered and danced in the lamplight, their figures silhouetted against the wallpaper, twisting like Dante's creatures.

Sebastian dragged his hands down Hunter's arms and rested them on his chest, Hunter's nipples trapped between the gaps of long fingers. Sebastian drew back, his mouth huge and red and damp. With a look that conveyed nothing more than lust, Sebastian deliberately lowered his mouth to Hunter's neck and began to suck. Bolts of electricity shot through Hunter's body from that one point of contact; he shivered and savagely bit his lip, desperately trying to keep quiet. He loved the feeling of Sebastian's weight on his body – a complete reversal to their earlier situation. Hunter wanted to be dominated by Sebastian with a force that frightened him, although if he was honest with himself, it was exhilarating to lose control, even if it was to Sebastian.

Hunter wondered blearily if Sebastian could read minds when the boy raised his head and met his gaze. Sebastian's pupils were gigantic, and suddenly Hunter knew that the other boy needed this as much as he did. To what end, neither were sure. But it was ground that had yet to be explored. Hunter was enjoying the odyssey.

Sebastian's expression faltered, and the next kiss was far gentler than before. Hunter's heart, already racing, pounded frantically against his chest. What was Sebastian doing? Wasn't this just about sex?

_Sex… _the word echoed in Hunter's mind. He was dizzy with want. Was that where this was going? He felt a shock of fright. Military school had taught him a thing or two, but Sebastian was way out of his league.

Spurned on by his thoughts, which had quickly veered off track and were suddenly obsessed with _what _exactly Sebastian knew what to do, Hunter shoved Sebastian off him. Their knees knocked, elbows clumsily intertwined. Sebastian was sprawled on his back, his chest rising and falling rapidly. "Fuck, Hunt…"

Those breathy words went straight to Hunter's groin. He pressed his chest against Sebastian's own. If sex was the end goal, they'd been kissing for far too long.

Sebastian made a half-hearted noise of protest when Hunter slipped down his body, clever Greek-stained fingers tripping along the waistband of his pyjama pants. Never giving Sebastian a moment to act, Hunter went to work. Sebastian swore violently, his back arching. Hands had tangled in Hunter's hair. Hips stuttered in hesitation. But the longer Hunter sucked, his cheek hollowing, the easier Sebastian fell into step, and it wasn't long before he had tugged Hunter's head up with a painful wrench.

"Get up here," Sebastian growled. Hunter snapped to attention. The taste of Sebastian on his tongue swam in his mouth. Their kiss involved too many teeth, but Hunter was past caring. He was kissing Sebastian – Sebastian, whom had been nothing but a thorn in his side since day one. His only friend; his worst enemy. The battle was far from won.

Hunter's belt buckle was pulled open, his uniform shirt tugged out. Sebastian thrust his hand down the front of Hunter's slacks, and Hunter cried out, heedless of who might hear.

"Shut up." Sebastian clamped a hand over Hunter's mouth. Hunter felt his body rushing towards the edge of the cliff, his climax drawing closer and closer. He was so close to the void, that when Sebastian clambered above him and aligned their cocks, Hunter saw nothing but black black black. There was nothing except the obscene slick sound of Sebastian's hand guiding them both; nothing but Sebastian's sweaty forehead pressed against his own. Sebastian worked them for what felt like years, but must have only been minutes, before they both came, exhausted and angry. Sebastian drew his hand away at the very last moment, when Hunter's cock was sensitive and twitching. He met Hunter's eyes and sucked the fingers one by one.

For some reason, this act was more lewd and intimate than anything that had happened so far. It made Hunter flush and his mouth drop open slightly. And with a force that knocked him off kilter, he suddenly wanted nothing more than to have Sebastian dominate him again, the other boy's chest against his back, a sharp pain, a glorious finish.

They could hardly catch their breath. Sebastian collapsed beside Hunter. Their chests puffed in unison. Hunter's shirt was soaked with sweat. It was uncomfortably hot; the air was too close in the room.

As Hunter gradually dragged himself out of his afterglow, he became aware of what had just happened. Although he wanted himself to condemn it as a one-off occurrence - something born of boredom and hate - he felt that the act had held some weight to it. Something that he didn't quite understand.

All he knew was that he wanted it to happen again, badly.

After a while, Sebastian rose and stood. He pulled his pyjama pants up, his muscular thighs and buttocks disappearing from view beneath the thin grey cotton. Without a word, Sebastian stretched and went to his own bed, sitting down heavily on the mattress. He didn't look at Hunter.

Feeling sheepish, Hunter tucked himself away and buckled up his trousers. He sat up, trying to elegantly untangle himself from the sheets. They sat facing each other.

Sebastian looked into Hunter's eyes, and he found himself unable to gaze anywhere else. Those green eyes were shining oddly in the half-light; his pupils were large. Hunter wanted to believe it was because of him.

"You need to finish your Greek," Sebastian said, his voice expressionless.

Hunter froze. Sebastian didn't blink.

He cleared his throat and busied himself with tucking his shirt away. Eventually, he stood and went to the desk, picked up his pen.

Behind him, he could hear Sebastian breathing slowly and calmly. Their conflicted thoughts tumbled and swirled in the air above them. Their hearts hammered against their bone cages as they pretended nothing at all was amiss. It was all part of their game.


	2. power and control

**A/N **I am giddy with the amount of interest my little oneshot has generated! Thank you guys so, so much. It's absolutely made my week. And so, by popular demand, I've decided to expand _Achilles Heel _into a three shot. This second installment was actually quite the monster to birth, because I felt so anxious to meet everyone's standards. I hope you can see the evolution of Hunter and Sebastian's confusing dynamic and relationship. As always, please let me know what you think.

P.S. Thank you for fic reccing this on various site platforms. ;) I have spies everywhere. Even the trees are on my side.

* The infamous _Whistle._

* * *

A few weeks had passed since the Greek Incident, and almost nothing had changed. Hunter and Sebastian still bickered incessantly, insults and asides fluidly bouncing between them as they studied, ate, or prepared for Warbler's practice. Their arguments - that had once been as scripted and rehearsed as a Shakespearian production, ready for that moment for the curtain to rise, for their eager audience to bay for blood and lap it all up – had increased to unprecedented levels of hostility. Sebastian rarely met his gaze, and when he did, his eyes were hard as stone. Hunter had dissolved into himself and responded with equal venom. What had once been an afterschool activity, something to entertain the kiddies, was now an occupation into which a great deal of time and effort was placed. They had to maintain normality for everyone else, because for them, entire worlds had shifted.

Hunter couldn't stop thinking about the way Sebastian had kissed and sucked and bit. Sebastian meeting Hunter's gaze slowly, his lips massive and wet. His pupils blown and velvet black.

Hunter shifted uncomfortably. He was dominating his regular spot in the Dalton library, his belongings strewn carefully across the polished mahogany. The heavy rain splattered the window to his right, and beyond that Hunter could see the sodden sports fields and the verdant trees beyond. The world was a watercolour. Hunter thought it was beautiful.

Apart from another boy at the other end of the row of tables, he was alone. Hunter glanced down at his art history assignment, ignoring the images that were flooding his mind. God, the last thing he needed was a boner in the middle of the library. He'd been… taking care of himself more than usual after the Greek Incident. Sebastian's skin and eyes permeated every waking moment. It was (deliciously) unbearable.

The fact that Sebastian was actually acting as if nothing had happened between them bothered Hunter the most. Hunter knew how clever Sebastian was; he also knew how manipulative the other boy could be. But no one was that good of an actor. Could it be that Sebastian actually hadn't had wanted the other night as much as Hunter had? Was Hunter just another notch on his belt?

Hunter couldn't bear the way that his desperate heart clenched. He stared unseeingly at his assignment until it was time for Warbler practice.

The practice room was full by the time Hunter had dragged himself there. He was eager to lose himself in the seductive power of music, but Warbler practice meant Sebastian, which meant an onslaught of inappropriate images accompanied by the expected bickering. Hunter clenched his jaw. _Fabulous._

"Listen up, Warblers." He strode imperiously to the front of the room. Heads turned and conversation died, and the well-bred elite respectfully gazed at Hunter with attentive eyes. Hunter hardly stopped himself from preening: the authority and consideration that Warblers captain afforded him a blessed respite from the Greek Incident. "Sectionals is coming -"

The far doors opened with a bang. Hunter's eyes snapped to the intruders. He felt his stomach sink. _Of course._

Sebastian grinned wickedly, hair plastered to his skull. A few other Warblers straggled in behind him, their lacrosse uniforms clinging lewdly to youthful, toned limbs.

"Sorry, _captain,_" Sebastian drawled, dropping his sodden sports bag to the floor. He moved with the assurance of a panther. "We'll be sure to come earlier next time." He paused. The entire room stared at him. "Never thought I'd ever say that."

A smattering of approving laughter rippled through the room. Hunter felt his lip twitch.

"_Next time, _Smythe," Hunter's voice was sweet and cold, "you might want to think more about your slack actions when it's not so close to choosing the soloists for a major competition."

Their eyes met across the room. Hunter thought he imagined the way Sebastian's eyes flickered across his features with an expression close to… what, exactly? But in the next second Sebastian was pouting like a child, and the moment had passed.

Hunter resisted the urge to readjust his uniform: doubtless Sebastian would have some smart comment up his sleeve about it. He lapped up opportunities to undermine Hunter in front of the other Warblers. It was his hobby, just next to lacrosse and making out with his best friend.

Clearing his throat, startled at his thoughts, Hunter forced himself to focus. "Sectionals is coming in two weeks," he continued, skipping over Sebastian's bored form as he scanned the room. "That's more than enough time to craft a set list that will easily swipe first place from our competition. Word on the street," Sebastian sniggered unkindly, "is that New Directions is thinking up some dreadful multicultural disaster, doubtless Top 40 in origin and with about as much panache as a state college orientation day." All-round laughter: good. Sebastian: one; Hunter: one. "So the Warblers are going to do what we do best: charm."

Jeff and Thad whooped uncouthly and slapped out a few high fives. Hunter resisted the urge to glare. "Now, as for song suggestions -"

Sebastian waved a lazy hand in the air.

"Clearly if we go the tried-and-true route a la _Uptown Girl_ – apologies, Nick - it's not going to be our game, so I propose we -"

Sebastian coughed pointedly. Hunter exhaled heavily through his nose. "Yes."

Beaming facetiously, Sebastian kicked the side of the armchair in which he sprawled, unconcerned as a prince. "Sexy."

Hunter started. "Pardon?" he choked out eventually.

Sebastian grinned meanly; he'd noticed Hunter's flushed cheeks. "Well, New Directions are arguably our biggest threat right now, and they're not gonna do sexy. The Warblers do sexy best, and _I _think we should do a sexy number, just to get the itch back in their pants." Sebastian tipped his head to one side. "If you catch my drift."

It was proof as to how low their squabble for dominance had reached when Sebastian made meaningless comments such as that: he knew that Hunter would read the double entendre and he knew it would make him squirm. Hunter was suddenly extremely tired. But the Warblers were glancing between he and Sebastian as if at a tennis match, and Hunter knew that their sparring interludes weren't just about them. The Warblers were still undecided about Hunter as captain, which was why Sebastian went unchallenged so often. He had yet to prove himself. Sectionals was his ticket to unquestioned Warbler dominance, and he was determined to rule the roost.

"What song did you have in mind?" Hunter asked diplomatically, moving over to sit in his armchair. He rested his hands on the arms and, for the first time, looked at Sebastian absolutely directly. Hunter smiled thinly. He would _not _be bested by Sebastian. He was a Clarington, and Claringtons did not go out without a fight.

Sebastian swung his legs over and planted them on the floor. He leaned forward, glanced about the room, and grinned. He started to whistle a popular tune.

Slowly, the melody was picked up*. It swelled and filled the room as fingers started snapping and toes started tapping and heads started bobbing. High, clear voices rose above the hummed acapella chords. Sebastian stood and, like the born performer he was, launched effortlessly into the song. At each suggestive line (which, Hunter quickly learned, was basically every second line) Sebastian's eyes would bore into Hunter's own, dragging over Hunter's lips and throat and torso with deliberate intent. His gaze was a line of fire. Underneath his blazer and school shirt, Hunter's arms prickled and he couldn't stop himself from shivering hotly. He could feel his face steadily get warmer. Hunter's mind zoomed back a few weeks to the Greek Incident (knocking knees, tangled elbows, slick tongues), to the taste and feel of Sebastian in his mouth: during, after. How Sebastian had arched against his ministrations and shuddered, whining and completely undone. He had been more vulnerable than their sun-soaked afternoons alone, laughing and teasing, happy as children.

As Sebastian turned to shimmy over to Thad, winking and making exaggerated come-hither motions, and as Hunter unable to tear his eyes away from the other boy's slender body, he was painfully aware of two things.

One: he wanted – _needed_ - Sebastian with a force that shook him to his core.

He was gripping the arms of the chair tightly (heart humming, blood singing).

Two: he was _fucked._

God, Hunter thought desperately. Sebastian had done a number on him - that was for sure.

* * *

Once the song had finished (finally, finally), the Warblers celebrated, clapping each other on the back and dissolving in laughter and wide grins. Sebastian stood in the middle, panting a little, eyes pinned to Hunter's own. The other boy smiled slowly, his white teeth gleaming in the odd, grey-warm rainy light.

Eventually the Warblers settled. All eyes on the captain.

Hunter shrugged (two can play as this game). "Looks like we have our song for Sectionals."

Everyone cheered as the distant bell softly indicated the end of clubs. The room slowly emptied, the sounds of cheerful conversation following behind like a ghost. The door closed on Sebastian and Hunter. Silence reigned supreme. The former was taking an inordinately long time to rearrange the contents of his sports bag.

Hunter leapt out of his chair and stalked over to Sebastian. He grabbed the other boy's shoulder and tore Sebastian around to face him.

"Shit!" Sebastian's bag slid to the floor as he retaliated by reflex, shoving at Hunter's chest. Hunter only stumbled one step back; years of rowing had given him upper body strength that beat Sebastian's lithe lacrosse form hands down. He didn't shove Sebastian back, but instead grabbed a handful of damp sports uniform.

"Fuck you, Smythe." His words were tight with frustration. Hunter sneered at Sebastian's twisted expression. "I _know _your game. I know what you're doing." He let go of Sebastian as if he'd been burned. "I know _you._" Hunter glared at Sebastian for a moment, not quite knowing whether he should punch him or kiss him.

But Sebastian's face, which had cleared to a stony, unreadable default, made Hunter scoff and shake his head. He shrugged, exhausted. "Whatever, Seb." Hunter spread his palms before turning to get his bag. "Whatever."

He wanted nothing more than to go up to his room and sleep for a million years. Hunter's mind rarely strayed from Sebastian, and the sheer amount of mind power wasted on a boy who was plainly just playing him – Hunter was tired. Sebastian frustrated Hunter more than anyone in the world. There was no one he knew who could make him laugh and scream in the space of five minutes. Their relationship was on a knife edge. They complemented each other too well to walk away, and they irritated each other too much to get too close. The trick was navigating this impossible minefield of mind tricks and manipulation.

And privately, Hunter had to wonder if he was even clever enough to keep up.

Hunter turned back to face the door, and nearly ran straight into Sebastian.

Surprised, he stepped back, frowning. Sebastian was very still. His eyes were very bright. He didn't do anything characteristic to indicate nerves – but Hunter could see Sebastian was clenching and unclenching his left hand out of the corner of his eye, which he only did when he encountered something he found particularly puzzling. The light played over Sebastian's clean, Hampdens weekend boyish features. There were a constellation of pale freckles across the bridge of his nose and the tops of his cheeks. Hunter found himself suddenly breathless.

Sebastian opened his mouth, then shut it. He stared intently at Hunter. His eyes dipped. Swiftly, Sebastian had curled a fist around the lapel of Hunter's blazer.

"Don't do anything," Sebastian breathed (pleaded).

He leaned forward and their lips met. The kiss was soft. The side of their noses brushed snugly, Sebastian's skin still a little damp from outside. He smelled like sweat and laundry detergent and his fading, spicy cologne. Sebastian's lips fit against Hunter's like a puzzle piece. A tongue gently flickered across Hunter's plump bottom lip before drawing back shyly. Sebastian's chest was flush against his own. His hand was shaking where it rested against Hunter's heart. When he drew away his breath was unsteady.

Sebastian licked his lips and dropped his hand and stepped away. He didn't look at Hunter, but instead walked backwards to his bag, then disappeared into the corridor, his head bowed. The door closed quietly behind him.

The rain had stopped beating against the windows. The wooden floor was bathed in colourless light. Hunter sank slowly down onto his armchair. He rubbed his hands over his eyes and slumped heavily against the pillows.

_Sebastian fucking Smythe._

Hunter couldn't stop the stupid smile.


	3. this foolish heart

**A/N **It looks like I've been swept unwittingly into making this a multi-chaptered beast of the deep. I wrote a plan for the rest of the story, and I know where things are going. Believe me, this is no longer a three shot. This is a full on story.

Please do review and let me know what you think. I definitely take suggestions, and I read every word you guys write. I'm so invested in this pairing. You have no idea. Their dynamic is absolutely fascinating to me.

The song is _The Way You Look Tonight _by Frank Sinatra.

* * *

"What's all the commotion?"

Hunter strolled up to Nick and Jeff, who were clinging to the fringe of a gaggle of other seniors surrounding the notice board. Their group was blocking the wide doorway into the senior common room; with a jolt, Hunter noticed a familiar figure lolling in one corner.

"Senior mixer," Jeff explained sloppily, eyes already skittering back to the poster. When Hunter frowned, Nick supplied succinctly: "Crawford Country and Dalton sometimes have mixers. This Friday it's the senior one. Compulsory," he added with a grimace, "and it's black tie."

Hunter felt his interest piqued. He'd heard a little bit about these mixers (the drinks spiked twenty minutes in, virginities lost, clumsy shadowy gropes in the toilets), but since his transfer he hadn't had the opportunity yet to attend. Hunter had met a few Crawford Country Day girls, and vaguely recalled blobby navy shapes dotted occasionally around campus. He had never paid them much mind. Since Sebastian (he swallowed thickly), there hadn't been much time to think about other romantic attachments.

But now… Hunter's stomach leapt. Perhaps this could be a chance to get one up on Sebastian. Since that confusing kiss in the practice room, the temperature between them had changed once more. Gone were the explosive arguments and poisonous asides. Sebastian and Hunter had slipped into their old acquaintance from way before the Greek Incident. It was as if nothing had happened at all.

Hunter knew Sebastian was responsible: he was definitely the captain of this ship - the trouble was, Hunter didn't know just how strong Sebastian's hand was on the tiller. The other boy had suddenly stopped sniggering and fidgeting in Warbler's practice, or accidently-on-purpose shoving Hunter in the back in crowded hallways, or lounging about half naked in their room. Hunter couldn't say he was completely relieved. The aching days between the Incident and the Kiss had been turned down to a slow, bubbling simmer. Sometimes Hunter would be reminded of his desperate yearning (Sebastian giving him a playful wink, the beautiful skin of his forearm as they studied) and he'd be ceased by a manic desire to pin Sebastian to any available surface and shake him until they both saw stars. He wanted Sebastian to sulk and sneer so he'd have an excuse to bite and leer. Instead they were pleasant and altogether _normal _around each other. It startled Hunter that they could together actually _be _normal and pleasant. They were pretty rich kids smiling like oil paintings, serene and coy and absolutely perfect.

But Hunter wanted raw hate and delicious anger. It didn't occur to him that Sebastian was playing this card on purpose. Hunter was an unattended ticking bomb: he was baffled and outwardly pleased by their gentle friendship, yet inwardly he burned with passion and frustration. It was only a matter of time.

Hunter had to take control again, come hell or high water.

Clearing his throat and adjusting his blazer, Hunter swept into the senior common room. Boys chatted and laughed companionably, some lurking over unfinished homework, others watching the television in the corner. The weather lately had taken a turn for the worse; there was nothing to do but mope about inside.

Hunter made a beeline for Sebastian, who was commandeering an entire loveseat, his elastic legs swung over the far arm, an abandoned book propped open on his stomach. Another Warbler named Benjamin was involved in a laptop, the soft glow of the screen blurring with the dotted half-light of the rain outside.

"Hey killer," Sebastian greeted happily, a lazy grin sliding over his angular features. "Been tormenting some freshmen?"

"Did you hear about the senior mixer?" Hunter asked, perching on the arm of the loveseat, unceremoniously pushing Sebastian's feet out of the way.

Frowning, Sebastian kicked half-heartedly at the intruding hands and instead settled his feet across Hunter's thighs. "That Country Day thing? Total heterosexual yawn-fest. Wouldn't be caught dead."

"It's compulsory," Hunter said, to which Sebastian only shrugged, "Never stopped me before."

"I'll remind you," Hunter continued smoothly, as if he hadn't heard Sebastian's comment, "that the Warblers have a reputation to maintain, and the fact that we might be asked to -"

"Okay, okay, save the sermon." Sebastian yawned and toyed with the cover of his book (_Les Liaisons Dangereuses, _Hunter noted with an internal half smile). "I'll go, if it'll shut you up." He grinned with sudden purpose. "Care to be my date?"

Hunter repressed the urge to flush, and forced himself to smile sarcastically. This was Sebastian toying with him, testing the waters, just as he had done at the beginning of their friendship before the need to dominate overwhelmed. His words were smoke – and indeed, already Sebastian was looking away, making some demand of Ben, laughing obnoxiously, wriggling to get comfortable. Sebastian could be as sly as a child. Hunter never knew which way the other boy was going to go next. What was fact, what was fiction; what was right, what was wrong.

_Dangerous Liaisons_... How apt, Hunter thought wryly.

* * *

Hunter was in his art history class when opportunity struck. They had been dismissed to work in pairs to analyse a variety of pre-Raphaelite paintings. Ophelia stared sadly at the ceiling.

He glanced around him, not particularly disturbed. Their class was small, and more often than not they'd resort to working all together. Hunter was about to call out to Nick, when the girl to his right caught his eye.

Hunter had never paid attention to the girls that sometimes sprouted up in his classes. There were a few in Latin, but only one in art history. Visions of the senior mixer swam suddenly to the forefront of his brain. Hunter was still for a moment, thinking. He was thankful of his quick mind; he hadn't been putting much consideration on the mixer. He'd been planning on turning up with Sebastian, maybe getting tipsy on bad punch, and making fun of their classmates for the rest of the night (there was also a small, unsmothered part of him that visualized stumbling back to their room, perhaps a drunken kiss or two, or three, tip-toeing fingers in the dark…). But as Hunter studied the profile of the girl, he suddenly knew what he had to do.

Standing up and pulling his chair over to her desk, Hunter grinned gallantly when she glanced up.

"Seems like we're the only ones left," he commented cheerfully, sitting down and leaning his arms on her notebook. He was close, but not too close. It had been a while since he'd properly interacted with girls – sure, he'd talk to them in class, but aside from that, no one had caught his eye to warrant further attention – but he knew that they were very simple creatures at heart. Give them some attention, a bit of flirting, a well-placed compliment here and there, and they're be eating out of your hand.

"Seems like." The girl – was her name Flora? Dora? It was something drippy and floral: irritatingly, affectedly upper-class – smiled prettily and pushed a copper curl behind one ear. As Hunter made a few quips about Ophelia and PMS (decidedly off-colour, admittedly, but he didn't care too much; he never needed to exert much brain power on anyone other than Sebastian), the girl giggling despite her inner feminist, Hunter knew he was in with a chance.

If only he could remember her damn name.

* * *

Despite Hunter's expectations, the mixer was a glittering affair. Held in Dalton's assembly hall, the high ceilings, strung with warm art-deco lights, gave it a cosy, after-dinner atmosphere. There was a buffet table with tasteful hors d'oeuvre, some crystal bowls of punch and some of mulled wine, the seniors of Country Day and Dalton mingled with high-class proficiency.

Apart from Hunter and some other transfers on both sides, everyone else knew one another. They'd been raised side by side since kindergarten, and the room was filled with easy laughter and conversation. The girls were all beautiful, extravagant designer dresses swishing against glowing limbs. The boys were in tailored suits, bowties pressed, cufflinks gleaming.

Hunter and Rosa stood in a group of their mixed friends. Hunter had been steadily sipping at the punch, but he was heedful to keep in control. The Warblers had been invited to perform a little impromptu number to welcome the Country Day clan, and he had to be his best. Nick had promised to spike the drinks after the performance – he'd somehow managed to smuggle in a whole bottle of gin and solemnly promised them the 'times of their lives'.

Hunter had been rather surprised to see how lovely Rosa looked. Her dress was hunter – he appreciated the pun, and silently berated himself for underestimating her wit – green, with a string of fresh water pearls about her neck and at her ears and her long hair tumbling down to the middle of her back. They'd actually been having a very interesting conversation. Hunter definitely regretted the dismissive, shallow way he'd handled her the other day. Rosa easily kept up with him intellectually, and had a calculating sparkle in her eyes that made Hunter smile with genuine attentiveness.

They both laughed at some rambling story of Ben's. Hunter used the lapse in conversation to sip his drink and scan the massive room. When he'd left their room earlier to escort Rosa to the hall, Sebastian had still been in the bathroom getting ready. Hunter hadn't known Sebastian to be so fussy with his appearance. Normally Sebastian would throw on some Ralph Lauren and call it a day.

"Charm beats beauty," Sebastian twinkled one day, artfully arranging his popped collar. "Luckily, I have both."

Hunter glanced at his watch. Five minutes before the Warblers performed, and Sebastian was nowhere in sight.

"You'll have to excuse me," he said to Rosa apologetically. "I won't be long."

"Sure." She smiled at him for a little too long, and just as Hunter was beginning to wonder if she wanted him to kiss her, Sebastian came through the double doors.

Hunter tore his gaze away from Rosa to narrow his eyes at Sebastian. The other boy had noticed Hunter and gave a patronizing little finger waggle before sauntering over to the drinks. His entrance drew more than a few stares on the Country Day side, giggles bubbling in his wake.

His stomach had swooped at the sight of Sebastian. Clad in all black, Sebastian looked imposing and excessively wealthy. His hair, still slightly too long, was slicked back neatly. His legs went on forever. His eyes were half-lidded and suggestive in the most innocent of looks.

_Fuck, _thought Hunter distractedly.

"Yeah," Hunter added distantly in Rosa's direction. He side-stepped her confused look and strode across the room to Sebastian.

"You're late." His words held no weight. Hunter was too busy trying not to watch Sebastian's arse. "But I suppose I should be thankful you didn't drown yourself in cologne."

"You don't like it?" Sebastian looked wounded, straightening with a cup of mulled wine. "But it's _Bicurious _by _Clarington. _I would've thought it'd ring a bell."

Hunter laughed, his heart swelling. Sebastian grinned widely and sculled half his wine, shuddering. "Ugh. Thank fuck Nick's going to spike this stuff. Don't know how I'm going to make it otherwise. Okay, so which one's your date?"

"The green dress." Hunter took Sebastian's glass and drank the rest of it, missing Sebastian's reaction to Rosa. He realised suddenly, perversely, that he needed Sebastian to like her.

Beside him, too close, Sebastian snorted with laughter. "Oh, I see. Very witty. You sure know how to pick them. Now," he nudged Hunter, "if my senses are correct, it's showtime. Ready, tiger?"

Hunter licked his lips and met Sebastian's gaze. Valiantly maintaining some semblance of composure (Sebastian's heated eyes, stained lips, warm cheeks – too much, too much), Hunter grinned. "Don't freak out on me, Seb. We need your faithful doo-wopping abilities and dependable backing vocals."

Narrowing his eyes and giving Hunter a sarcastic sneer, the high chords of their opening song reached their ears. Hunter winked and put down his glass. Turning to face Nick across the room, Hunter entered on his cue, snapping into performance mode in a heartbeat. The girls laughed delightedly and in surprise, cheeks flushed with company and punch, and the other Dalton boys groaned good naturedly, rolling their eyes, hiding their smiles. The Warblers took to the floor.

Nick started up the beat, and the other Warblers layered their harmonies to create a glamorous, swaying tune.

"_Someday, when I'm awfully low,_" Hunter sang, his lovely voice low-pitched and melancholy, "_when the world is cold, I'll feel a glow,_" he walked slowly through the crowd, the Warblers keeping in step with him throughout the room, snapping their fingers. "_Just thinking of you._"

Hunter passed by Rosa and her friends, catching her eye for the next line, ready to set her heart a-flutter. He smiled, charming like the gentleman he was. Her cheeks were rosy with pleasure.

"_And the way you look…_"

Sebastian stepped behind Rosa, stealing her gaze away from Hunter at the last second, and she grinned in delight. Sebastian smiled as he sang backup, slipping between the figures of the crowd, a perfect shadow, his profile bathed in the warm, honeyed light. Hunter's breath hitched on the last word of the verse: "_Tonight._"

Nick took over, giving Hunter time to compose himself for a moment. "_Yes, you're lovely, with your smile so warm, and your cheeks so soft…_" Nick's voice was hearty, but it had none of the seductive, golden tone of Hunter's, whose words dripped from his mouth like molasses. The girls still twittered when Nick strolled past them, beaming and swaggering amiably, and Hunter had to smile.

Hunter dipped around Rosa's group, eyes averted from Sebastian. The Warblers twirled, their song swelling powerfully. It was as if they'd stepped back in time. When he sang the next line, his voice blending sweetly with Nick's for a moment, he saw Rosa out of the corner of his eye turn quickly to watch him. It should have made him feel warm, but instead it grated.

"_There is nothing for me but to love you,_" Hunted lamented, playfully touching his heart as he caught the eyes of several girls, "_and the way you look tonight._"

Nick and Hunter's voices built and rose together. "_With each word your tenderness grows, tearing my fear apart…_"

Sebastian was on the far end of the room. Hunter did an impromptu spin, growing to his role in the song. But the look on Sebastian's face made him want to stop dead. It happened so quickly, Hunter could have imagined it - Sebastian's eyes, heavy and liquid black, his body effortlessly swaying to the song, hips like a metronome.

"_And that laugh that wrinkles your nose, it touches my foolish heart._"

It was such an inappropriate contrast to the sweet theme of the song, but it made Hunter flush hotly and it made him catch his breath: it was so typically _Sebastian_. He was overcome with a wave of lust and panic. The lyrics rose and fell between them, and Hunter yearned with every fibre of his being that Sebastian understood what Hunter was trying to say.

"_Lovely…_" Hunter could hardly believe his daring, but he kept his eyes pinned to Sebastian's. His heart hammered a tattoo against his breast. "_Never, ever change._"

Nick took over for the next two lines, but Hunter couldn't tear himself away from Sebastian. He felt as if they were the only people in the room. "_Keep that breathless charm, won't you please arrange it -?_"

The next words almost stuck in Hunter's throat, but thank God he didn't miss a beat. He hardly understood what he was singing, which was why afterwards he wanted to die when he remembered the lyrics. But right now, it was as if he were speaking a foreign language. "_'Cause I love you…_" Sebastian had hypnotized him. He could hardly think. "_Just the way you took tonight._"

Hunter moved and sang on autopilot. The Warblers swept inwards to group in the middle of the room, hands clasped behind backs, ready for the finale.

"_Oh, just the way you look… tonight._"

Hunter dropped his arms as the last dulcet tones of the song faded out. The claustrophobic room burst into applause. He was very, very warm. He was vaguely aware of the Warblers patting his back, laughing and joking. He knew Sebastian was somewhere behind him, but he couldn't bear to look.

Across the room, he caught Rosa's eye. Her cheeks were painted a pretty pink. She held up her glass to him and smiled shyly.

Hunter blinked. He vaguely registered Nick murmuring something about gin.

He strode mechanically over to Rosa as some upbeat jazzy song started playing. "Care to dance?" he asked her, his grin plastic and his voice stilted.

Hunter didn't notice Sebastian's gaze follow him like a line of fire.

* * *

The rest of the evening was a blur. Hunter had danced for a while with Rosa, and he had enjoyed himself – as much as he could, under the circumstances. He couldn't shake how wrong her tiny waist felt under his hands, or the softness of her doting bambi eyes. He felt sick for wanting a hard chest and muscular arms over a girl as beautiful as Rosa. He felt sick for wanting Sebastian.

Dizzy with his emotions, Hunter untangled himself after a few songs.

"Are you alright?" Rosa asked, smile wide and happy. Hunter laughed and made some vague excuse and disappeared towards the drinks. Somewhere between his third and fourth glass, he'd forgotten about Rosa. At the sixth he felt the familiar lap of melancholia against his mind, as it always happened when he drank too much.

Hunter should have expected his best friend would come to the rescue. He had slumped in a chair and nursed his glass. He hadn't seen Rosa for a while, and blurrily wondered where her green dress had disappeared to.

"Easy there, Sinatra."

Hunter peered upwards, squinting in the dim light. Sebastian's voice was amused as he chuckled. Hunter couldn't see the other boy's features. There was a halo of gentle golden light surrounding his figure.

"I think you've had more than enough," Sebastian chided, taking the glass away with a sulky protest from Hunter. "Come on, up we get."

Hands curled beneath his arms and hauled him upright. Hunter distantly wondered where the teachers were, and he dizzily noted how _right _Sebastian's solid body felt beside his. The other seniors moved slowly beyond Sebastian's shoulder. Some were slow dancing unsteadily, clutching one another grimly. They should be slow dancing, Hunter decided suddenly, Sebastian should lead, and he'd keep in step because he was a very good dancer.

"You sure are," Sebastian replied, and Hunter realised confusedly that he'd said that aloud. "Now come on, it's almost midnight, and they're gonna come clear this place out soon. Don't want our treasured captain getting black marked for public disorderliness."

"Are w-we going to… bed, Seb?" For some reason this made Hunter giggle. "Bed, Seb. Bed, Seb. _Bad, _Seb."

Sebastian guided Hunter out of the hall and into the dark hallway beyond. There was a half moon, the light coldly filtering across heady wooden panelling and stern oil paintings.

"Bad Seb. You're so bad. Such a-a…" Hunter rubbed one eye and leaned heavily against Sebastian's warm presence, "mindfuck. But you know that."

Sebastian was silent. The trip up to the dorms took far less time than Hunter remembered it usually did. The world was spinning, but he could feel himself sobering up. The cold corridors had hit his mind like a jackhammer. But he wasn't okay enough to stand straight. Hunter slipped off the doorframe, where he'd been propped by Sebastian, and slumped instead against the door.

"C'mon," Sebastian admonished, voice so sweet and gentle it made Hunter want to cry. "C'mon, you want to get to bed, right?"

Hunter whined lowly in his throat and closed his eyes, leaning his head back. Fuck, he was drunk. How had he got this way? Hunter thought as hard as he could. How many drinks had he had? That was some strong gin, though. Jesus…

Hunter licked his lips, eyes fluttering open. His heart stuttered in his chest.

Sebastian was watching him, eyes hidden in shadow. He had one hand on the doorknob. His body was very close.

Hunter wanted to die. Surely Sebastian knew how he felt… With a sick feeling, he recalled the song he'd sung. The way he'd stared helplessly at Sebastian, drawn by a force he couldn't even comprehend. They played each other, revelling in their mutual distress, but when it came to the punch, they never went forward. They couldn't bear to hurt one another too badly; it was an unspoken rule. But _emotional _torture… true, unadulterated toying – that was an open playing field. And Sebastian had been scoring goal after goal.

Hunter was sick of it. He was sick of being the one without any power. For weeks now he'd been subordinate to Sebastian; he'd been the one lusting after the other boy, had had his heart pinned brazenly to his sleeve. Sebastian didn't care, not one bit. This was all some elaborate experiment, just another one of his childish games…

"I hate you," Hunter told Sebastian softly, the words strong and quiet in the still air.

Sebastian didn't move, but his eyes flickered with something like sadness. "I hate you too, Hunt," Sebastian replied. "I hate you very, very much."


	4. resolve

Sebastian opened the door to their room. Hunter stumbled into the darkness first, his head and heart pounding. He fumbled blindly for the lamp switch but quickly gave up.

He stood in the middle of the room and scrubbed his face with his hands. His knees were like water.

Hunter felt a presence behind him. Sebastian's breath warmed the back of Hunter's neck; goosebumps erupted along his shoulders and arms. Sebastian placed a possessive hand on Hunter's left hip, the fingers splayed low on his hip bone. Hunter's head fell back against Sebastian's shoulder.

Heat coiled low in his belly. Hunter pressed back against Sebastian, who exhaled unsteadily, and pulled Hunter further towards his body by the grip on his hip. Hunter was a little startled by the half-hardness against his arse, but it only sent a bolt of white heat towards his groin. Hunter moaned a little and pushed back experimentally; Sebastian leaned forward and bit Hunter's earlobe gently, hesitantly. Hunter's stomach fluttered and he moaned again loudly with intent, his head swimming shallowly, his body tense with lust. When he turned his head to one side, Sebastian's mouth found his immediately, and they kissed sloppily.

With a groan, Sebastian shoved Hunter forward, and they collided with the wall. The feeling of being trapped, of being dominated, almost overwhelmed Hunter. His erection pushed against the wall, and it should have been painful, but it only served to send heated waves over Hunter, making him see white.

He inhaled sharply and gasped as Sebastian rolled his hips, jerking Hunter's groin with agonizing pleasure against the wallpaper. As Sebastian started up a heady rhythm, Hunter knew he couldn't last long. The seductive presence of Sebastian, and the remaining vestiges of alcohol in his system, made him boneless with want and exhaustion. When Sebastian moaned helplessly against Hunter's neck and bit the pulse point none too gently, Hunter exclaimed wordlessly, face pressed to one side.

He couldn't take this anymore. A few more minutes and he'd be spent and – even in his slightly drunken haze – Hunter knew this couldn't end yet.

He had been relatively pliant up until now, but Sebastian had clearly underestimated or forgotten Hunter's superior strength. Hunter wrenched his body around and grabbed Sebastian's wrists. They kissed furiously, Sebastian's liquid eyes gleaming in the darkness. Hunter's lips slotted marvellously against Sebastian's own, their tongues clashing. Hunter pulled back to bite and suck at Sebastian's lower lip; the other boy groaned wantonly and ground their erections together with fervour.

Hunter drew away from Sebastian with an exhalation and manoeuvred them towards the shadowy form of Sebastian's bed. They collapsed on the mattress, the sheets crinkling beneath their forms. Hunter sat flush on Sebastian's lap and held his wrists above his head with one hand. They resumed kissing desperately. Weeks had been building up to this moment, since the Incident, since the kiss. Hunter had spent _weeks_ imagining scenarios and jerking off madly almost any opportunity he had. Clearly Sebastian hadn't been doing the same – Hunter growled and bent down to lick a wide stripe up the other boy's neck – because saintly Sebastian was always so in _control, _so _composed. _Hunter hated him. He hated him.

Deftly, Hunter tore off Sebastian's bowtie and pulled open the neck of his shirt, the buttons sliding open easily. Sebastian was panting, his hard on pressing insistently against Hunter's backside, his lips slick and open in the gloom. Releasing Sebastian's wrists, Hunter tugged open the rest of Sebastian's shirt and fastened onto a nipple; Sebastian moaned brokenly and arched upwards, and Hunter ground down in Sebastian's lap in retaliation. Hunter was angry, angry because he had had all these feelings for this boy who did nothing but skulk and smirk. Hunter didn't _do _one-sided. He had conquests; he was rarely the conquered.

Sebastian exclaimed as Hunter bit his nipple.

But Hunter was going to win this time.

"Fuck, fuck." Sebastian dragged Hunter's face upwards and kissed him soundly. "Get this off," he demanded once they'd surfaced, fisting Hunter's shirt and jacket lapel. "Get this off right now."

Hunter – despite his mental narration – hurried to sit up and shuck off the jacket. He savoured shedding the shirt. The moon had come out from behind a cloud and bathed their room in a dreamlike light. Hunter half expected that this _was _in fact a dream. Why else would Sebastian, after weeks of alternately teasing and ignoring, be breathing his name like a mantra and trapped between his thighs?

Hunter grinned darkly, enjoying this show far too much. He unbuttoned slowly, his eyes trained to Sebastian's face, who was watching Hunter with a look bordering on religious reverence. Once his chest was bare, Sebastian sat up and licked his chest, hands steadying Hunter by his hips. Beautiful bolts of pleasure erupted when Sebastian grazed his teeth over his abdomen. Hunter's head lolled back. He could barely breathe.

But they'd been suspended on the edge for too long. Swiftly, Sebastian laid back and pulled Hunter back on top of him, clumsily undoing his belt buckle. He reached down to open his own pants.

Somewhere in his mind, Hunter registered the decisive metal clicking of the buckle; understood its significance. But he couldn't stop himself. The game was too far gone.

When Sebastian kicked off his trousers and Hunter did the same, and they aligned perfectly, their naked forms sliding along one another in delicious friction, Hunter felt his climax building with a colossal power. The white coil of heat in his belly grew and grew. Sebastian gripped Hunter by his hips and positioned him on his lap. Sebastian didn't pause – and Hunter didn't want him to.

For some reason, Hunter knew it would have always been like this. Groping in the dark: things lost, things found. As Sebastian coated two fingers with saliva and trailed his fingers along Hunter's thigh, he could do nothing but wait and listen to the sound of their combined breathing: shallow, frequent. The pain was unbelievable, and Hunter half wanted it to stop. But instead he drove down on Sebastian's fingers purposefully, and the next thing he knew Sebastian was inside him, and it burned and burned and he couldn't really think anymore.

Hunter willed himself not to cry as they thrust together, Sebastian's face buried in the crook of his neck. Later, Hunter would recall the salty dampness on his skin, and wonder.

They came together. Hunter's orgasm was ripped from him when he felt Sebastian come. He knew that there would have been no other way. He wanted nothing more. He had never felt anything like it in his life.

Hunter moved, trembling from his climax, off Sebastian, and collapsed beside the other boy on the bed. Sebastian was shaking and breathing heavily, his head turned away from Hunter. The moonlight traced silvery rivulets on his cheekbone. Hunter gradually succumbed to the alcohol sloshing through his veins and the heady smell of sex and sweat.

He watched Sebastian's chest shudder up and down with each breath. Hunter's eyes fluttered, but he leaned over and pulled a sheet over their cooling bodies. In his haze, Hunter was sleepily unsure of what to do next. He lay on his back, staring at the ceiling. Best friends didn't fuck and cuddle.

But were they even best friends anymore? He shifted uneasily, but stopped when he felt Sebastian stir beside him.

Tense, Hunter waited. And slowly, Sebastian rolled over to face him. His face was empty. A marble Adonis. Hunter felt the urge to cry again, and he looked back at the ceiling. Nothing had changed.

A feather-light touch made him look back at Sebastian. The other boy had traced the curve of Hunter's nose with a shaking finger, his lips thin with an unexpressed emotion. Hunter gazed into Sebastian's eyes, wordlessly willing him to do something, anything, to show that this wasn't part of their game. Not anymore.

Sebastian inhaled slowly and leaned forward, pressing a small kiss just beside Hunter's mouth.

* * *

**A/N **Seriously had no idea where this came from. It just felt right. I'm about the halfway mark of this story now, I think. One thing's for sure: this is entirely in Seb and Hunter's hands. I'm just the driver.


	5. back to 'normal'

**A/N **Thank you for all the reviews and kudos and ahh you guys are making me so happy. I'm so motivated to finish this fic (this is a first for me, just saying). I know things are getting angsty, and I'm still unsure if I actually want to finish this on a high note. At this point I can't quite see it, so feel free to tell me what you think to help me out, haha. :p

* * *

The following morning, Hunter awoke to a splitting headache. He squeezed his eyes shut against the yellow light filtering in through the window; he must have forgotten to close the curtains.

As he shifted, pulling the thin sheet further over him, shivering a little, he felt a terrible twinge in his lower back. Hunter couldn't move for a moment, but then he shifted again experimentally, and the plain blossomed further down. His arse hurt like a _bitch._

Opening his eyes woozily, Hunter made to sit up a few times, and almost collapsed back onto the bed. Eventually he shuffled into a sitting position, head back against the wooden headboard. As he gradually dragged himself out of his drowsiness, he became aware of the soft clicking of laptop keys.

Moaning softly, Hunter chanced to open an eye. When his head did nothing more than swim, his eyesight lurching to skitter across the room, unable to focus, he gritted his teeth against the pain. A hangover hadn't ever stopped Hunter before, and it wasn't going to stop him now.

"Good morning there, Casanova. Hope I'm not speaking too loud for you."

Wordlessly, Hunter gave Sebastian's voice the one fingered salute. Sebastian laughed, the loud sound pounding through Hunter's head like a herd of elephants.

"Oh my God, Seb," Hunter begged, still trying to figure out how to keep his eyes open, "please don't be a dick. My head hurts like a mother right now."

And swiftly: "Your arse too, I expect."

Hunter's heart faltered and he forced his eyes to open. Sebastian was sitting at the desk on the other side of the room, the one that Hunter had occupied before the Incident. The cheery sunlight flooded in between him, casting a magnificent furry glow to surround his lithe figure. His Mac was open on the desk before him, the screen unreadable to Hunter. Sebastian's gaze was cool and his position nonchalant, as if he didn't want to frighten Hunter off. But his eyes held a slight quivering question, his pupils transformed into question marks. _What if…?_

Hunter licked his dry lips. His mouth felt like sandpaper, and it wasn't just the hangover. "Why would my arse hurt?" he asked slowly, eyes half-lidded against the light. His heart hammered against his rib cage.

Sebastian rubbed a thin hand over his morning stubble. "Well," he started leisurely. "It _might _have to do with the fact that we had sex last night."

This blatant admission made Hunter want to die. He felt his face flood with colour and, though he wanted nothing more than to hide beneath the sheets and never come out, he tried to keep calm. There was no doubt in his mind that Sebastian was telling the truth; unless he had fallen down sharply somewhere during last night, there was no other reason as to why he was in so much pain right now. He only thanked his lucky stars he wasn't a virgin: that would have been far too awkward. Still, it had been a while since… Hunter clenched his jaw and hoisted himself further up the bed, hoping his internal distress appeared nothing more to Sebastian than some really wicked hangover symptoms.

"Does that bother you?" Sebastian asked after a pause. Hunter couldn't determine his tone of voice. He sounded deliberately careless – as if it meant nothing to him either way. Yet there was a sense of studious indifference that made Hunter wonder if Sebastian was as rattled as these events as he was.

Hunter met Sebastian's gaze head on. "I've been practically expecting you'd jump my bones for some time."

Sebastian laughed, his body slackening minutely with relief. "Yeah, well, how could I not? You're a hot piece of meat, Hunt." His eyes glittered, his smile wide.

Hunter shrugged and made a _don't I know it _expression. "You're not telling me anything new."

Sebastian laughed again and got up, closing the lid of his Mac. "It's Saturday, thank fuck." He yawned and stretched. "I'm having a shower. You can wait, as punishment for drinking your body weight last night. Or," he winked, suddenly alert, "you could always join me."

Hunter's blood galloped in his veins. He licked his lips again. Another one of his fantasies coming true in less than twenty four hours… Surely there had to be a catch.

"It's fine." Hunter hunkered down, pulling the sheets tightly around him. "It's cold and I don't think I can move right now."

"Suit yourself," Sebastian twinkled.

He left the door of the bathroom slightly ajar, so misty tendrils whispered into the room like tentacles. Hunter stared unseeingly at the sliver of grey light. Slowly, he became aware of the sound of Sebastian singing obnoxiously loudly and sweetly.

Hunter couldn't stop the small smile that flickered as he recognised the song. _I will feel a glow, just thinking of you..._

He sighed heavily, slumping against the pillows. Mindfuck, indeed.

* * *

Hunter really wasn't sure what he felt about this new development. He supposed that, like the Incident and the Kiss, it was simply something that had been building between them; something unstoppable, and when released, would inevitably have a lasting impact.

He squeezed his eyes shut and forced away the swell of sadness that rose within him. Their friendship was ruined. There was no way they could come back from this, not ever. The past two altercations had been mistakes, born of lust and their mutual desire to best each other. But this... What was it? Was it possible that Sebastian felt the same? Or had he just been taking advantage of Hunter's inebriated state?

As soon as the thought occurred to him, Hunter dismissed it. He'd been participating just as passionately and desperately as Sebastian.

_Fuck... _Hunter licked his lips again and dragged his hands through his greasy and sleep rumpled hair. This was such a _mess. _He couldn't show Sebastian how affected he was; he just couldn't. Although they were best friends (who now apparently slept with one another), their game, their little competition, hadn't dissolved. It still hovered between them, dictating every playful, barbed comment and patronizing look. It was masked by the facade of friendship, but even that was tentative.

Hunter recalled the analogy that had come to mind a few weeks ago. Their friendship really was on a knife edge. It was the ultimate test of will and strength. Who will cave first? Who will emerge victorious?

The sickest thing was that Hunter wanted badly for the sex to happen again. This angst, the semi-awkward morning after, kisses undelivered, restrained touches... It was captivating. It made Hunter yearn for more. He felt so _alive. _But was it just because of Sebastian? If he had slept with someone else, say Rosa, would he feel the same?

Shit, Rosa. Hunter wrinkled his nose, struck with sudden guilt. He'd completely forgotten about her.

Glancing at the bathroom (Sebastian was now rounding off an exuberant chorus of _It Had to Be You_) Hunter slipped off the bed and fished through the pockets of the discarded clothing on the floor. That image, if anything, made Hunter pause. It was an image he used to see so often - cold, wrinkled clothes, abandoned and final - but in this context it suddenly threw everything into focus. That and the sharp pain that accompanied his every move.

Hunter stared at the collection for a moment before turning to his phone. He had three messages. Two were from Nick, drunken rambling texts that made very little sense (something about Jeff?), but the last was from Rosa.

Swallowing drly, Hunter opened the message: _(00:15 PM) Got home fine, ty for gr8 night! See you for coffee later this week mayb? You owe me ;) x_

Hunter stared wildly at the text, thoughts racing. What exactly had happened last night, bar Sebastian and the frankly excellent sex?

"All yours." Sebastian wandered into the room, towel strung low on narrow, protruding hips.

Hunter glanced up from his phone and didn't look back. Thin rivulets of warm water made their way invitingly down Sebastian's bronze chest. His arms were long and toned. The sunlight tangled along the slender planes of his body, tracing his silhouette as intimately as a lover. Sebastian's hair was wet and fell with a slight wave into half-lidded eyes. They were so green, the pupils growing even as Hunter's gaze dragged along his skin.

His previous conflicting and panicked thoughts about last night dissipated with the fading mist from the shower. Hunter was suddenly very aware of his own nakedness, perched on the edge of the bed. Sebastian didn't smile as he moved forwards to stand between Hunter's legs.

His eyes were slow and warm as he leaned forward, lips tracing a line from Hunter's forehead to the end of his nose. Hunter's body flushed, skin prickling from the impossibly gentle contact. Sebastian's mouth hovered above Hunter's own. It felt like every fibre of his being was drawn to that spot; Hunter shuddered with want and something else that he couldn't name.

Their mouthes met tentively. They kissed over and over, their lips pressing together softly. Their noses brushed snugly together. Hunter could feel Sebastian's eyelashes against his forehead from the other boy's slightly higher position. Their breath was warm and shaky between them. Hunter put his hands on Sebastian's hips hesitantly, half expecting Sebastian to pull away. He felt a thrill when Sebastian leaned closer into the contact.

Sebastian pushed forward, nudging Hunter's mouth open with a slick tongue. It was so different to last night. It was tender in a way Hunter had never experienced, and that simultaneously excited and frightened him.

With a last hot kiss, Sebastian pulled away. Hunter could feel Sebastian smile.

"Not bad," Sebastian surmised, stepping back. His grin was lazy. His eyes were massive. "I'd give it a five out of ten."

Hunter was conflicted as he laughed. Part of him wanted to fall back into this easy acquaintence. It was something he understood; a role he could play expertly. He didn't know what he had expected. He didn't know what he wanted.

But the fact that Sebastian was so cool about it all...

A familiar rush of frustration bubbled up. _That's better, _Hunter thought.

He could do hate.

* * *

The week passed by in a sex-saturated blur. They slept together twice more, events that were hot and confusing and jumbled in Hunter's mind. Sebastian hadn't tried to penetrate him again, and they'd been satisfied with hands and mouths. The time that seperated their encounters seemed to stretch on forever and ever, present with Hunter fidgeting and on edge the entire time. When Sebastian passed by him in the corridor the first time, eyes heavy with suggestion, and a hand that brushed a deliberate stripe of fire across his thigh, Hunter had had to sit through two more classes half-hard, jumping at every sound. The second time Hunter had initiated, sneaking into the change rooms after he knew lacrosse practice had finished. It wasn't as sexy as he had thought, the smell of stale sweat and feet almost ruining the mood. But Sebastian was an antidote to everything, and his hands drew Hunter's mind to another world until the only thing that existed was Sebastian's body, Sebastian's eyes, Sebastian's mouth.

Hunter could feel himself slipping lower and lower. He was distracted and confused. That week he received the first fail mark of his life. Staring at the cramped mark on the back of his dismal assignment made Hunter feel... dark. Pathetic. Claringtons never got anything better than perfection.

Hunter knew he was rapidly losing control of the situation. His friendship with Sebastian hadn't changed with the addition of this new physical element; if anything, they were far emotionally closer than ever. Their conversation and banter was fluid and funny. Warbler practice had turned from veritable battlefields to playful events that no longer made every Warbler sit tensely on the furniture, ready to leap to the rescue.

His mind was a whirlwind. On one hand, he couldn't get enough of Sebastian. The other boy's presence was a drug. He'd weaned himself on sex and loathing. He couldn't envision a time when he wouldn't be dependant upon Sebastian.

Hunter swung between elation and the deepest despair. _A loser; a rebel, cause without. _He felt completely lost. What did he _want_? This was what bothered him the most. Hunter had achieved what he had yearned for for so many months: Sebastian. He had him, lock, stock, and key, but he was still unsatisfied. He felt used, this he knew. He felt weak.

On Thursday night, during a study session in the library to make up for his fail mark, the answer suddenly occurred to him with startling clarity.

He hadn't conquered Sebastian. Sebastian had conquered him.

* * *

Classes on Friday afternoon were cancelled. Instead, Dalton was holding a swish soiree for the seniors and their parents. First term had almost finished; Sectionals was directly around the corner.

Hunter was tense and belligerent to everyone, including Sebastian. The other boy had made to coax him away from his work last night, and Hunter had snapped a poisonous remark, the likes of which they hadn't experienced since before the Incident.

Sebastian hadn't spoken to him since. His eyes were cold, his words terse. Hunter was satisfied by this seeming return to normality. He needed his head clear; Sebastian was a cloud of opium, and Hunter hadn't been able to see. He needed Sectionals, he needed Warbler dominance, and he needed a perfect GPA to get into law. Hunter had been drunk on Sebastian for too long. He needed to keep his head in the game.

The weather had sulkily returned to its autumn chill. The soiree, originally to be held on the Dalton west lawns, had moved into the massive glass greenhouses. The doors were kept open, the misty rain falling straight as arrows, the air slightly humid with transseasonal temperature.

Hunter ducked into the greenhouse, brushing a hand absent-mindedly through his hair as he scanned the room for his mother.

Mrs Clarington had arrived in Ohio just a few hours before and was set to fly back to California later tonight. She needed a break from husband number four, who was a sustainable energy tycoon and had a penchant for exotic escorts.

Hunter straightened his blazer when he caught sight of his mother, and started weaving through the crowd. The glasshouses, though many in number and large in size, weren't accustomed to so many people. Great tropical plants hung from the ceiling, strewn with dainty lights. People mingled here and there, champagne held aloft like trophies. Boys chatted genially to parents and teachers, hands behind their backs, wonderful, well-behaved Dalton gentlemen.

"Hunter, darling!" Mrs Clarington exclaimed when she caught sight of her handsome son. Hunter grinned and kissed her cheek. He was immersed in her smell: old fashioned makeup powder, clean sheets, roses. Her shoulder length hair was set in a mass of ringlets, naturally honey blonde still, despite her nearing middle age. Mrs Clarington was an extremely good-looking woman, her jaw and nose strong like her son's, though whilst Hunter had a systematic, West-coast feel to his looks, she was all-British. The Claringtons had moved to America when Hunter had been seven, following the first divorce. A few more husbands had come along - the third one had been the one to insist upon Hunter's military education, among other factors - but Florence was still the self-assured, graceful woman she had always been. She smiled fondly at her only child, her eyes wise and lined with a swooping cat-eye.

"How have you been, my beautiful boy?" she asked tenderly, cupping Hunter's face with a grey kid-skin glove. "You look a little peaky."

Hunter shrugged. He was suddenly overcome with gratitude that he had never had to pretend with his mother. They had stuck together through thick and thin, and really, they were their only family. Mrs Clarington seemed uptight and gloriously unapproachable, but Hunter knew how to make her laugh until her sides hurt, knew when she needed cheering up. They were more like siblings than anything. Hunter smiled sadly in response, feeling desperately unhappy all of a sudden.

Florence's eyebrows wrinkled and she stroked her cheekbone. "Baby, what's wrong? Please tell me. You're worrying me."

Hunter's mouth twisted to one side and he ducked his gaze. Inhaling deeply, he looked back at his mother. "I'll tell you later," he promised, "but now's not the time. You should be enjoying yourself."

Florence cocked her head to one side and gave him a deadpan smirk. She tapped Hunter's cheek with a touch too much force than was necessary. "If you say so. But I'm expecting the full story." Hunter rolled his eyes, and she smiled indulgently. Looping their arms together, she sipped some champagne and looked about the room. "You must introduce me to some of your friends. What about that boy you always went on about? Smith, or something?"

Hunter's stomach plummeted. "Sebastian Smythe," he replied, voice stiff.

His mother noticed the careful lack of inflection, but let it slide. "Yes, that's it. Find him for me. I must meet this famous boy."

Hunter tensed, but just as he was formulating some excuse, the crowd parted, and Sebastian was standing with his parents, looking simultaneously murderous and depressed.

He could tell by the set of Sebastian's jaw and the way he held himself that something was wrong. Mr Smythe was talking inaudibly, his hard face trained to Sebastian's. Mrs Smythe looked equally stony.

"He's over there," Hunter heard himself say. A sick part of him wanted to inflict his company upon Sebastian to make the other boy even more uncomfortable - yet even as he thought this, his heart clenched. Hunter bit the inside of his lip. He still cared for the stupid bastard; he couldn't help it. Their temporary status didn't allow Hunter to forget what it used to be like between them.

Florence tugged on his arm and before Hunter knew it, they were all standing in an awkward circle with Sebastian too close to his left and his mother introducing herself silkily as the Smythes hauled their manners into action, son temporarily forgotten.

Hunter caught Sebastian's eye.

There was a pause. Then Hunter's mouth twitched. _I'm sorry. _

Sebastian's gaze softened and he smiled imperceptibly. _You idiot._

"It's very nice to meet you, Hunter," Mrs Smythe said, marginally warmer following a charismatic joke of Florence's. "We've heard about you."

Hunter resisted the urge to look at Sebastian. "And I you," he replied genially, glittering with charm. "Mr Smythe," he added, expertly steering the conversation, "how is upholding the law treating you? Made any groundbreaking rulings of late?"

Mr Smythe smiled grimly. Sebastian was entirely forgotten. Florence and Mrs Smythe started discussing California, their melodious voices adding to the buzzing backdrop of conversation. Hunter was genuinely interested in the law, and as Sebastian's father was state attorney, he had been meaning to discuss careers with him for some time.

Launching into a spiel about a few recent cases, Hunter tried to keep his mind on the conversation. Whether Sebastian was deliberately being provocative, Hunter didn't quite know, but the other boy was so close to him it was incredibly distracting. Heat emated off Sebastian, contrasting with the odd chilly, humid air. Hunter's tirade he'd been occupied with this past week threatened to dissipate entirely. He willed himself to stay strong. Sebastian was a player; had been playing him since the very beginning. They might be friends, but they weren't lovers. There was no tenderness when they had sex - but Hunter knew that wasn't true. Sometimes Sebastian would look so deeply at Hunter he wondered if he was wrong about _everything._

"Of course, Sebastian has no clue what to do with his life," Mr Smythe interjected randomly. Hunter blinked, confused at this sudden conversation turn. "As long as there's money and polo, my son's all set."

Sebastian set his jaw but said nothing. Mr Smythe eyed his son and drained his glass. "If only he had some _direction. _You're a perfect example, Hunter." Mr Smythe looked suddenly into Hunter's eyes; he felt exceptionally awkward. Hunter shifted his weight. He was aware that his mother and Mrs Smythe were listening to the conversation. "You're a good looking young man, well mannered, excellent connections," he winked sluggishly at Florence. "The world's on a platter for you, Clarington. But my son, despite the fact he has everything - has had anything he's ever wanted - he still can't repay me for all I've done. Eh, Sebastian?"

Hunter felt Sebastian burn. He wanted to believe that Mr Smythe was drunk; perhaps his words meant nothing. But there was a keen sharpness in his eyes that reminded Hunter of a schoolyard bully. Dangerously alert and intelligent, Mr Smythe wasn't afraid of his son in the slightest. He merely looked disappointed, though his veneer was that of dislike.

"Have you thought any more about your future, Sebastian?" Mrs Smythe asked, glassy-eyed and playing distractedly with her rose gold necklace. "What about college?"

They were all silent for a moment, watching Sebastian, who was still as a statue. With a snort, Mr Smythe turned away, looking to refresh his glass, when suddenly Sebastian spoke.

"I'm thinking of law," he commented coolly. His hands were in his pockets, his hair immaculate: the very image of young wealth. "Like Hunter."

Hunter smiled thinly, covering up his confusion. Sebastian had never expressed any interest in law before; Hunter had heard Sebastian's tirades against his father's 'dirty' occupation many a time. They'd discussed the various points of law tirelessly, Hunter defending his chosen career with vehemence.

"Really," Mr Smythe said, raising an unimpressed eyebrow.

"Oh yes," Sebastian continued suavely, "my boyfriend has managed to bring me around with _great _success."

Hunter froze.

Sebastian made a show of noticing Nick pass by them, oblivious to the icy atmosphere. "Sorry, you'll have to excuse me." Sebastian smiled, sly as a snake. "I just have to talk to Nick for a moment. Mrs Clarington, mother, father." And with that he disappeared into the crowd, leaving Hunter with one of the most excruciating silences he had ever experienced.


	6. realisation

**A/N **The song is _You Make Me Feel _by Cobra Starship. I thought it was a song that the Warblers would be likely to sing - top 40 is their domain!

Do keep letting me know what you think. :) Thank you _so_ much for all your reviews so far! They make me so happy, and it definitely makes finishing this fic way easier. You have no idea how much all of your support means to me.

* * *

Hunter's hands were shaking. He couldn't hear anything except the drum of his heart in his veins. His chest rose and fell with a subtle rapidity that made Mrs Clarington turn to give her son a raised eyebrow.

He tore his eyes away from Sebastian's retreating figure and stared unseeingly at the Smythes and his mother. They didn't speak. The air bristled with confusion and audacity towards Sebastian's sudden exit.

"Excuse me," Hunter bit out, hardly aware of what he was saying. "I have to… I'll just -"

He turned sharply on his heel and dove into the crowd.

Hunter emerged at the edge of the greenhouse, standing at the lip of the room. The tips of his shoes were sprayed with the misty rain that fell outside. A sharp gust of humid air blew over him. Across the lawn, his figure slipping through the rain like a water snake, Sebastian walked briskly, his head bowed.

Hunter followed.

Sebastian whispered before him, Hunter catching the edge of a blazer or a shiny heel twisting around corners and at the far ends of corridors. Hunter could barely keep himself in check. He wanted to scream. He wanted to hit something. Hunter's whole body vibrated, teetering on the brink of breaking into a run and shoving Sebastian with all his might against the nearest wall. His eyes were pinned to Sebastian's ghostly figure.

Hunter should have guessed Sebastian's destination. The other boy stood in the middle of the familiar room, his back to Hunter. The Warblers practice room was deserted, all seniors present at the soiree and other students still in class. Hunter closed the door with an ominous click.

They stood in silence. Hunter couldn't tear his eyes away from Sebastian: that boy who was his poison and his only antidote; his Achilles heel.

"How did mummy take your new-found sexual orientation?" Sebastian said eventually, his voice deliberately cold and aloof. "I do hope she hasn't cut you off without a cent." He turned around, theatrical even under these circumstances. "That would be," his voice dipped into a slight sneer, "_tragic._"

Hunter shot over to Sebastian, only just registering Sebastian's look of complete shock as he grabbed the other boy by his blazer and slammed him against the wall. He leaned in close, words and emotions bubbling too close to the surface. If Sebastian did one last thing, anything untoward or shamelessly petty, Hunter wouldn't be able to help himself. His limbs sang with adrenaline.

"Go on." Sebastian's voice was low. "Hit me."

Hunter stared into Sebastian's eyes. He wanted to do several things to Sebastian in that very instant: kiss him, fuck him, tear him limb from limb… Hunter almost keened with the fury and power of his thoughts.

But as he pressed his body against Sebastian's, willing himself to stay under control, there was a flash in the other boy's eyes that made him stop.

The bastard was _turned on._

Hunter dropped Sebastian's blazer and stepped away, anger and lust battling for dominance in his mind.

And suddenly, he saw red.

Hunter's fist collided with Sebastian's jaw, the action emanating a sick fleshy sound that drove Sebastian's head violently to one side. The other boy staggered with the force of Hunter's aim, clutching blindly onto the arm of a nearby chair. Hunter hardly stopped himself from moving in again, the sight of Sebastian at his mercy bringing up forgotten desires…

"You _bastard,_" Hunter spat. As Sebastian raised his head, cradling his gruesomely split lip, Hunter was struck by understanding. "This is the game, isn't it?" When Sebastian's averted his eyes, a wave of unbridled loathing swept over Hunter. "You sick bastard," he snarled, hands shaking uncontrollably. "So all of this, everything – it was just part of the _game_?"

Sebastian roused himself. "Not everything." His voice was quiet, controlled. Hunter stared at him, sickened. Even now, when Sebastian was cornered – _confronted – _by his actions, he still pushed his piece forward.

"I don't believe you," Hunter hissed.

"Believe it, Hunt," Sebastian snapped, and Hunter shot forth and shoved Sebastian back against the wall, pinning him with one hand.

Hunter couldn't be here anymore. The sight of Sebastian, eyes dark and sulky, his lip massive, completely in Hunter's control – it was too much. He was plagued by lust and an overwhelming sense of sadness. He had _known _that it would come to this; had known that it was a matter of time before Sebastian tripped up and revealed his real intentions. Hunter was a conquest and Sebastian had staked his claim. He wanted to throw up in shame and disgust. Was he truly nothing more than that? Was he really only another notch in Sebastian's belt?

"Things changed," Sebastian whispered brokenly. Hunter refocused, his eyes searching Sebastian's. There was no trace of deception – but how could Hunter know for sure? Sebastian was the ultimate actor, an expert in taming his emotions. His words were smoke.

"What changed?" Hunter hated the way his voice shook.

Sebastian tried to lick his lips, but grimaced when his tongue probed the cut on his bottom lip. Hunter was plagued suddenly by remorse. He wanted to gather Sebastian to him and never let go. But he couldn't, not now; maybe never.

When Sebastian didn't reply, Hunter knew that was it. He let go of Sebastian's blazer and walked out of the room.

* * *

The atmosphere in Scandals was claustrophobic. The place was packed – surprisingly, for a Friday night, although there were a gaggle of very straight-looking girls who looked to be on a hen's night – and the walls reverberated with the heavy bass. The floor was sticky. It was hardly the nicest joint, but for Lima, Ohio, it was the place to be.

Sebastian unceremoniously ploughed his way through the crowd to the bar. Flashing his I.D., he had to roar over the dim at the bartender for a couple of shots. Doing shots alone was totally depressing, but he had to get drunk really _fucking _quickly. His head pounded with the music and his thoughts.

Leaning back against the counter, Sebastian surveyed the crowd. His eyes dipped and scanned, tracing every denim-clad thigh and leather-wearing chest. But every familiar figure morphed into a broad-shouldered, narrow-waisted, swaggering brute of a boy with a sneer that could rival Sebastian's any day. _Get over him, _Sebastian thought grimly, turning around and slamming back a shot. His split lip blistered with pain. The alcohol didn't burn on the way down, but once settled in the pit of his stomach, made him want to throw up. He gritted his teeth and chucked down the other shot, quickly motioning to the bartender for more.

Sebastian dragged a hand over his face and shook his head. He had to get into the game. He was on the prowl, and he was going to get lucky.

Smoothing a palm down his designer t-shirt, the fabric stretched obscenely over his toned torso, Sebastian turned back to the crowd. His heart stopped.

Across the room, looking very out of place, was _Blaine Anderson. _Unbidden, Hunter's snide comment whispered to the front of his brain: _It's sure as hell not gonna be that two-bit Anderson boy._

Sebastian plastered an alluring sort of smirk on his features just before Blaine's eyes met his. The other boy looked like a deer in headlights. He visibly swallowed and stared very hard at his cute little penny loafers. Sebastian felt his mouth twitch. It was like sizing up a virgin schoolboy, and not in a sexy way.

Blaine seemed to come to a decision, as he put his hands in his pockets and started over to Sebastian, his walk jaunty and devil-may-care. When he came close to Sebastian, Blaine cocked his head to one side, making a show of looking simultaneously surprised and disinterested.

"Sebastian," Blaine greeted carefully. His eyes skittered over the abandoned shot glasses.

Forcing a coy expression, Sebastian's gaze ducked and dragged up Blaine's body. "Evening, honey," he replied, "care to join me?"

Blaine licked his lips, still staring at the shot glasses. He seemed to come to a resolution with himself. "Sure." Nodding, Blaine settled on a bar stool.

"Here, let me," Sebastian interjected quickly as Blaine started to bring out some money. "My treat."

Blaine eyed Sebastian with mistrust, but put his wallet away anyway. Sebastian pushed two glasses in front of Blaine and raised his own to eye level.

"To old times," he toasted amiably. Blaine's eyes were unreadable in the stuttering club light as he rose his own shot glass. The glass clinked and alcohol disappeared. Sebastian immediately grabbed another shot and they repeated the ritual.

By now, Sebastian was feeling a tickle at the edge of his subconscious. His chest was warm and his vision swayed only slightly. Good; he'd need more than this to deal with Blaine after the trophy incident. He resisted the urge to snigger. Hunter had been _so convinced _that drippy plan would work…

Sebastian mentally cursed himself. Tonight was not a Hunter night. He couldn't even bear to think about the past day or so. _Hell._

A wave of absolute melancholy rose within him. He beat it down.

"What are you doing in a place like this?" Sebastian asked Blaine. When the other boy's eyebrows wrinkled in confusion, Sebastian had to lean forward and repeat the question in his ear. Once upon a time the thought of breathing in Blaine's boyish smell of clean soap and Abercrombie would have made him happily squirm. Now he just smelt like a little brother: unthreatening, unchallenging.

Feeling a bolt of panic, Sebastian shoved those thoughts (and a certain boy) to the back of his mind and forced his mind into familiar territory.

Out of all the men in this club, he hadn't been with Blaine yet.

His eyes dark, Sebastian leaned seductively against the counter, knowing his body looked long and youthful and positively dreamy. Goal for tonight: get into Blaine's pants. The kid was in denial, had been since last year. But things could change. Love and hate walked a fine line… A quick fuck, that was all he needed. That was all he had wanted, all along. Right?

"How did you get in here?" Sebastian asked impulsively, and Blaine's responding sheepish look made his stomach drop. "You kept it?" he persisted, referring to the I.D. he had made Blaine and Kurt last year. The fact that Blaine had kept it could have meant nothing; it was certainly a convenient present, after all. But Sebastian had to wonder at its possible sentimental value. Could it be that Blaine was here for the same reason as Sebastian?

Sebastian turned unsteadily and motioned for another round, but as he did so, a tanned paw found its way to Sebastian's forearm.

"It's Kurt." The words were choked. Blaine's eyes shined; Sebastian knew he was doing everything in his power to remain cool.

"What, is your girlfriend on the rag?" Sebastian sniggered half-heartedly.

Blaine blinked a few times; his gaze was unfocused. "We broke up."

After the pleasure of knowing he was right, the muddled mess of his brain (shit, those Cocksucking Cowboys had really hit him now) caught up. Sebastian realised that Blaine was… really torn up. He was probably getting all clinically depressed over it, being the secret drama queen that he was. Sebastian tossed back another shot and peered at Blaine.

"That fucking sucks," he tried. Blaine nodded shakily, suddenly looking crushed. His eyes were crinkling. He grabbed a shot glass and downed it swiftly. "Blaine, c'mon." But the other boy exhaled unsteadily and shook his head. He had another shot. After a moment, he raised his head and met Sebastian's gaze.

"You wanna get out of here?"

Inappropriately, those words threaded their leisurely way to twist in Sebastian's groin. He licked his lips and grinned darkly. "Lead the way." _That was easy, _Sebastian wondered absently. _Unlike Hunter._

After tossing some bills onto the counter, they snaked their way through the crowd and into the cold night air. Sebastian's arms prickled, but he shook it off. A jacket would have ruined his outfit. Blaine, decked out in about five different layers, looked very snug as he swayed gently in the parking lot. The washed-out light of the street lights gave Blaine a sweaty, faintly ill look.

"So…" Sebastian slunk closer to Blaine until massive hazel eyes stared up at his own. "Where did y'wanna go?"

Blaine was silent for only a second before he lurched forward, fastening their mouths together. Sebastian growled and pulled Blaine towards him by his hips.

They kissed for a few minutes.

Nothing. Sebastian felt nothing.

Sebastian's hands had been itching to push Blaine away before they finally parted. Blaine looked shaken, and Sebastian, with an unexpected thrill of relief, wondered if he had felt the same. Wordlessly, Blaine staggered a few steps away and propped himself against the side of Scandals and emptied the contents of his stomach onto the dirty gravel.

He didn't know whether to laugh or cry. "You never could hold your liquor," Sebastian jeered drunkenly, but his words held no heat. His heart was leaden in his chest. Hunter couldn't hold his liquor either.

* * *

They were sitting on a brick wall somewhere, holding some cheap coffee Sebastian had bought somewhere else. Their surroundings, as unfamiliar and foreign as a dream, were a blur of grey and orange. Street lights punctured the night. Cars passed by occasionally. Sebastian didn't know what the time was; he could barely remember how to bring a cup to his lips.

Alcohol still rolled through his system, persistent as an ocean wave. If anything, it had increase in potency since they stumbled away from Scandals and into the gloom. Sebastian had trouble keeping his eyes open. The world spun crazily.

Blaine was slumped beside him, still a little drunk. He nursed his coffee, calm now; when Sebastian had first handed the takeaway cup to him, Blaine had burst into tears, blubbering about the Lima Bean. Sebastian had distastefully patted Blaine on the back. He didn't do feelings.

A hazy image of Hunter's face swam before his eyes. Sebastian took a sloppy drink of scalding coffee. _He didn't do feelings._

"I mean, we were – _are_ - _soul_mates_._" Blaine had been confusedly swaying towards the conclusion of his monologue for what felt like a very long time. Each time it seemed like it was about to finish, Blaine would launch into a rambling aside about Kurt's eyes or hair or something, and Sebastian would try hard to look interested. "I love him. I love him, Sebastian." Their sleepy eyes met. "He's my best friend and I love him more than anyone in my life."

Sebastian wanted the words to stop at the back of his throat; willed them to fall backwards down his gullet. Instead, they came unbidden to his lips, words tripping over the threshold of teeth and lips.

"I'm sort of - a bit – in… love with someone too. He's… he makes me so… _angry. _I just can't – he's a challenge. An unsolvable challenge and it _pisses me off_, oh God –"

As soon as he said it, Sebastian wanted to cry, or laugh. He squeezed his eyes shut and his head lolled back. "_Fuck. _Listen to me. Shit. Blaine," he turned to look at him, "I'm fucking whipped."

They stared at each other for a beat before erupting into giddy laughter. When it subsided, Blaine snuggled into Sebastian's shoulder. It wasn't entirely unwelcome, but Sebastian felt nothing more for Blaine than a grudging, tentative truce. They had too much history; it was the power of alcohol that brought them to this stage.

"Who is he?" Blaine asked, the words slurring. "Is he as pretty as Kurt? Because Kurt's beautiful. So I – I guess he can't be as pretty as Kurt, huh."

"Hunt gives Kurt a run for his money," Sebastian informed Blaine, waving a finger for emphasis, though he couldn't remember raising his hand.

"W-What happened?" Blaine asked.

Sebastian shrugged. He shrugged again, because it felt right and he had momentarily forgotten how to form words. "I'm a dick."

Blaine nodded against Sebastian's shoulder. "You're a _bastard._"

"A real bitch."

"A slut," Blaine added sleepily.

Sebastian stared across the road, his coffee warming his hands. "A total fucking slut."

They were quiet for a moment. "Why are you such a dick, Seb?" Blaine mumbled eventually. "When you're like this you're fine, but otherwise you act like such a b-big tool." He hiccupped unhappily.

Sebastian felt tears prick his eyes, and before he could stop himself, his cheeks were hot and wet. He tensed, waiting for Blaine to come swooping in with a monogrammed handkerchief, but the steady, soft rhythm of Blaine's breathing reached his ears.

Sebastian closed his eyes briefly and looked up at the heavy, dark sky.

* * *

They had stayed on the wall for an indeterminable amount of time, Blaine lapsing in and out of sleep, Sebastian wearily sipping his cooling coffee. They talked a little, mainly about Hunter and Kurt. Sebastian had told Blaine what had happened over the past few weeks, although his story was abbreviated and he wasn't trying very hard because his thoughts didn't make any sense and he was worried he'd start crying again. The world was still spinning dizzily around them: they, the centre of their own small universe.

Sebastian walked Blaine all the way home, even though it was miles away and in the opposite direction to Dalton. Blaine had held Sebastian close before he snuck in his massive front door, his head buried in Sebastian's chest.

"You have to fix it," Blaine murmured. "You're Sebastian Smythe, you can fix anything. So," he stepped away, tapping Sebastian's ribs importantly, "get fixing."

Sebastian had walked back to Dalton, parts of the trip along the highway, cars speeding past him with a force that could knock his paper-light self into the night wind. His mind was carefully blank; he just watched his shoes, the shadows slipping over and up his legs with each step.

He had sobered up by the time he got back. When he had closed the door of their room quietly behind him, he allowed himself to look at Hunter's bed. A grey form rose up, the gentle rise and fall of Hunter's side the only indication he was there. Sebastian was struck by a crazy desire to crawl in beside him, to wrap their bodies together and never let go - to keep him trapped in this web they'd created… but the question was, who was the prey now?

He fell fully clothed onto his own bed and slipped effortlessly into a deep, black sleep.

* * *

Sebastian was late for Warbler's practice on Monday. He had managed to avoid Hunter for the entire weekend – a feat which deserved praise in itself, because they were so used to doing almost everything together, their schedules were practically one and the same. Many times, when Sebastian had hit unexpected snags in his homework, he'd looked for Hunter. He found himself waiting for Hunter after meals. He lurked about the library, nonchalantly checking Hunter's usual haunts. Hunter was now an endangered species.

The look in Hunter's eyes made Sebastian sick. They were cold and impersonal; hard as stone, emotionless as ice. Whenever their gazes did accidently meet, Hunter wouldn't look away until Sebastian did, embarrassed by his weak will.

Sebastian couldn't bring himself to talk to Hunter. He knew he should – he'd even made meticulous plans to corner Hunter: water-tight ideas that started with Sebastian telling Hunter everything and ending with them preferably having excellent make-up sex against the nearest available surface.

Hunter's absence was a cut in his side; a gaping gash that pained Sebastian every time he moved. His emotions dripped steadily to the floor.

Sebastian had rehearsed what he wanted to say to Hunter. _No one challenges me like you. No one has put me through my paces like you have. I wanted to conquer you. I wanted you at my mercy, like so many others have been before._

Sebastian watched Hunter direct the Warbler meeting, his proud gaze sweeping over his attentive soldiers, happy and calm in this role of leadership.

_But I didn't know that you would fight back. I didn't know that it would be me struggling to keep up as you strove forward. I'm drunk on you; I'm addicted. I hate you; I love you. We're a team. You are my only equal._

Sebastian exhaled unsteadily, forcing himself to tune into Hunter's words. Thinking in this vein had driven him to frustrated tears on more than one occasion, and the last thing he needed was to start bawling in Warbler's practice. He was still held in some esteem by his fellow Warblers – he knew this by the way eyes sometimes darted over to him, checking for his reactions, silently waiting for his comebacks. So far, Sebastian had been silent. He roused himself. Smythes didn't give in, not without a fight.

"As captain, I've decided not hold an audition for the soloists for Sectionals," Hunter announced; a ripple of surprise going through the room. "Because, as captain," he tone was affectedly modest, "I will be leading the Warblers to victory."

Sebastian frowned. It was one thing for Hunter to take out his temper on Sebastian – hell, it was expected. But he knew something was seriously wrong if Hunter was inflicting their personal problems on the Warblers. Hunter was, admittedly, an exceptional captain. He was fair and friendly, but he knew when to get down to business, and did so with a militaristic presence that Sebastian could have only hoped of achieving during his time as captain. Hunter believed in fair go's: if anything, this change in behaviour was an alarm bell for the rest of the Warblers.

Eyes flickered towards Sebastian as if on cue; he took to the stage.

"Uh, _captain_?" Sebastian stood up, graceful as a tiger. He motioned around the room. "It's been tradition," (the word echoed between them, a memory surfacing in both their minds: Hunter, sitting on the edge of his seat, arguing the importance of Greek, an image of scholarly prowess), "for the Warblers to unanimously decide on the soloists for any competition."

Hunter's flickered with repressed emotion. "Well, _Sebastian,_" he replied delicately, jaw set, "I'm captain now, and I'm redefining this tradition."

They glared at each other for a steely moment. As Sebastian was about to cave – he couldn't take much of Hunter, it was too much, like a parched man gorging himself on water – Nick chirped with an innocent look: "I have a feeling this calls for a duet." The other Warblers exclaimed suddenly in affirmation, delighted at this proposal.

Sebastian's stomach dropped, but he could see what Nick was trying to do. As far as Nick probably assumed, Hunter and Sebastian were just at another crossroads regarding Warbler leadership – and always, in the past, they had either bickered unsuccessfully or sung it out, lyrics and chords twisting in the air, their voices and dance steps substituting fists.

Hunter's expression mirrored Sebastian's. But their captain licked his lips, and before he spoke a word, Sebastian knew he was going to do it. Hunter rarely backed down from any challenge. It was one of the aspects that Sebastian liked the most about the other boy: they both always stepped up to the plate and gave it their all. Holding back wasn't part of their repertoire.

Nick stood, his grin impish. He turned to face the rest of the room and started clicking his fingers. Slowly, the other Warblers picked it up one by one. The look in Nick's eyes as he caught Sebastian's gaze told him all he needed to know: Nick understood that it wasn't just about the Warblers. In that moment, Sebastian hated Nick's quick mind.

"_La la la la la,_" Nick sang. The rest of the Warblers stayed seated, but took up the harmony. As one, their voices melted together: "_La la la la la la._"

Sebastian couldn't stop himself from groaning as he recognized the song. Hunter's mouth twisted and he crossed his arms, but his eyes glittered briefly with amusement. Jeff stood and moved slowly around Hunter, singing the harmony. Hunter grinned despite himself. Sebastian's heart clenched.

When Nick nodded at him, Sebastian started the first verse.

"_Boy, I've been all over the world looking for you." _Sebastian ducked his head, his feet tapping, fingers clicking softly. The music swam through his veins, rushing with the hypnotizing song. "_I'm known for taking what I think I deserve,_" Sebastian licked his lips and glanced at Hunter, "_and you're overdue._"

Sebastian let himself feel the beat. His eyes closed briefly, the lyrics hitting closely to home. "_And if you listen you can hear me through the radio, in that bright white noise!_" He drank in the song, letting the music flood over him. Sebastian locked eyes with Hunter as he sang the next lines. "_What I been missing in my life, what I been dreaming of…_" Sebastian shrugged, warming to his role in the song, and the Warblers grinned, standing up and circling their captains. "_You'll be that boy, you'll be that boy, you'll be -_"

Hunter uncrossed his arms and started forward, their voices intermingling for a glorious moment as he took over the lead. "_Everything you want so let me get up there,_" Hunter cocked one shoulder, looking sassy as hell. Sebastian licked his lips. "_I'm the baddest baby in the atmosphere._" Hunter's eyes challenged Sebastian as the next words dipped, coloured with a hint of unexpected hesitation, although Sebastian could see Hunter was wrestling with himself to keep cocky.

"_Tell me what you want so we can do just what you like…"_

As one, the Warblers built up the chorus, the song swelling around them. "_You make me feel that la la la la la, you make me feel that la la la la la…_"

Sebastian liked that the song could mean anything: _la la la la la _was a blank space. As he watched Hunter, nodding his head and letting the music dance through his body, Sebastian thought of some words that fit their situation.

"_Get a little closer to me, boy,_" Sebastian sang, his voice strong and playful. He slunk towards Hunter, who grinned wider, caught up in the song, "_And you'll understand. 'Cause if you want a guy that knows what you need,_" Sebastian motioned to himself; Hunter's eyes dragged down his body, "_well then, I'm your man."_

He slipped into the bridge. The Warbler's backing vocals were high and powerful. Hunter was shaking his head, trying in vain to look sombre. Nick passed by Sebastian, grinning fit to burst. Music was their salvation – could one song fix Hunter and Sebastian?

"_What I been dreaming of, you'll be that boy, you'll be -_"

Hunter span then stopped suddenly, hands outstretched. "_Everything you want, so let me get up there._" He walked backwards away from Sebastian; they circled a couch, Hunter's eyebrows raised and chin high. His eyes were puddles of ink. "_I'm the baddest baby in the atmosphere,_" he reminded Sebastian, smirk tugging the corners of his mouth. "_Tell me what you want, _'_cause we can do just what you like!_" The harmony swelled, bridging Hunter's two verses.

Hunter did few quick steps, dodging Sebastian who followed hungrily. "_Oh, everything you know, I'm flipping upside down,_" he sang, his canines exposed as he grinned, his eyes gleaming knowingly. Sebastian swallowed dryly. "_Take you round the world… Oh,_" Hunter shot Sebastian an innocent look, "_you know I like it loud,_" he backed into line with the Warblers, "_so, tell me what you want 'cause we can do just what you like…_"

The Warblers, led by Thad and Jeff, leapt into some impromptu, complicated dance moves. They continued to sing the harmony as Hunter broke rank to circle Sebastian, their voices mingling: "_You make me feel so… you make me feel that…_" Sebastian's body thrummed in time with the music and lust.

Nick jumped onto an antique coffee table and his hands rose as he took the finale of the song for his own. "_Put your hands up, put your hands up; let the lights drop, let the lights drop…_"

Hunter and Sebastian's eyes were pinned to each other as they sang as one, "_Make my world stop, make my world stop._"

The Warblers brought the song home, the chorus stretching and swelling, the notes high, reverberating through the room. As Sebastian and Hunter came to a stop, the Warblers surrounding them as the harmony slowly dropped off. The commanding sound dipped into an extended hum as it faded out.

At the song's conclusion, the Warblers, infectious and happy as puppies, burst into applause and laughter. Sebastian stood facing Hunter, both breathing slightly quickly. Hunter's face was impassive, but his eyes were huge, drawn to Sebastian's own irresistibly. Sebastian swallowed thickly.

_I'm sorry, _Sebastian communicated silently. His heart hammered against his chest. His limbs were shaking with the last vestiges of adrenaline. _Please, Hunt, please._

Hunter's gaze ducked and he cleared his throat. Nick turned away from Jeff and glanced curiously between them.

"What's the verdict, captain?" he asked.

Hunter studied his shoes for a beat before straightening his blazer, tilting his chin up. "Congratulations, Seb," he said, the old nickname falling from his mouth easily, "looks like you'll be a soloist for Sectionals."

It wasn't the announcement that made Sebastian grin with relief and exhaustion and something boarding elation. It was something in Hunter's eyes that lurked behind his crumbling stony façade, something that gave Sebastian hope, despite everything.

_Soon, _Hunter's expression promised. They were swamped by Warblers, a battle cry of _Sectionals, Sectionals! _starting up. They caught each other's eye. _Give me time._


	7. the come down

Sectionals was just around the corner. For weeks it had been a distant event, unimportant somewhat when compared to Hunter and Sebastian and their gloriously frustrating and constantly fluctuating relationship.

Hunter was still reserved after their duet in Warbler practice. They were able to talk normally again, but they didn't touch, and Sebastian was often hard pressed to get a genuine grin out of the other boy instead of a placating thin smile. Sebastian had to admit, however, that Nick had been onto something when he suggested the duet. He couldn't listen to the original of the song now without smiling secretly to himself. It was easier to express himself through song; it always had been. Music had halfway bridged the gap between them.

The Warblers had been in heavy duty practice mode, Sebastian doo-wopping and kick-ball-chaining to the best of his ability. He could tell that Hunter appreciated these efforts on Sebastian's part to keep the peace: sometimes, Sebastian would catch Hunter watching him during practice, eyes soft, an amused smile flickering at the corners of his mouth. Once upon a time, Sebastian would have deliberately stepped out of line or turned in the opposite direction to everyone else, and then Hunter would spend twenty minutes detailing every reason as to why Sebastian should never have been born.

Sebastian went after Hunter like a little dog, tail wagging madly. It was entirely in Hunter's hands now. Sebastian knew he had yet to explain his actions; knew he had to still put into trembling words what he really _felt _for Hunter… But he'd get there. He could do it, in his own time. Internally his thoughts and emotions swirled madly, swooping one moment from elation then plummeting when he remembered his _inexperience _when it came to commitment. That was still a thought that flickered in the back of his mind: Sebastian had never wanted security. And he _hated_ himself for being unsure with Hunter.

As much as he yearned for the other boy, Sebastian loathed Blaine and Kurt's situation. He didn't want drippy sentiments in hallways and big-eyed duets in the candlelight.

Hunter wasn't that sort of person, and that warmed Sebastian's fickle soul. They were so similar. They were moody, sulky, and spoiled. They both had ambition and drive and Sebastian could see them dominating in their future careers, coming home at night to a gigantic penthouse apartment, and having absolutely mind-blowing sex on their twenty-thousand dollar sofa. This image of domesticity still made Sebastian tread carefully, but once he'd let himself think about it once, it had been hard to stop the flow.

Sebastian wanted Hunter. He wanted pinned wrists and bruising kisses. He wanted soft touches and flushed cheeks. Sebastian wanted to see Hunter grin the way he used to: wide, exhilarated, and as if he'd never do it again.

Giving himself up to someone was unexplored territory for Sebastian. He would be lying to himself if he didn't admit how _frightened_ that made him.

As Sebastian threw a hard ball at the net, he thought briefly about Sectionals and the upcoming lacrosse game. The end of term was galloping towards him, and he'd been so caught up in Hunter that he'd barely had time to practice for lacrosse. Sebastian was only thankful that his natural ability was keeping him afloat during training with the team; otherwise, he might be off the team, and Sebastian didn't get dumped by anyone.

The field was a little misty, the autumn air chill and damp. The far-off lines of trees were beautifully pruned, rising up out of the grey landscape like solemn sentinels. Sebastian panted lightly, his thin shirt clinging to his body. He'd been training for an hour or so, but his muscles were burning as if he'd been out on the field for six hours. Sebastian gritted his teeth and shot another goal. Dalton rose to his left, the watercolour image blurring into the faded surroundings.

Sebastian shot a few more goals, his aim each time growing more and more tired, until eventually he overreached and missed the goal entirely. He resisted the urge to strike the ground with his stick. Sebastian exhaled heavily and dragged a hand through his sweat-damp hair.

"Losing your touch?" A familiar voice called cheerily across the field.

A grin appeared instantly on his face as Sebastian turned around to see Hunter, strolling along like a country manor heir. He was out of his uniform, instead wearing a pair of dark jeans and an artfully distressed t-shirt. The fabric ribbed around Hunter's slim waist, coyly stretching over his muscled abdomen. Hunter's smile was wide, his eyes twinkling playfully.

"Thank you for your professional opinion," Sebastian replied sarcastically, swinging the stick up onto his shoulder. He watched Hunter approach, a familiar dark warmth spreading in his chest. The boy was so at ease, his pace alluringly smooth with a quiet power.

Hunter shrugged, his smile dissolving into a grin. "Working hard, I see," he noted, "did you let your standards slip?"

"I've been a little distracted lately," Sebastian replied, and Hunter flushed.

"Have you…" Sebastian cleared his throat and fiddled with the shaft of his lacrosse stick. "Have you talked to your mother?"

It was a stab in the dark; he had no idea how Hunter would react. He almost felt faint with relief when Hunter, after a pause, nodded his assent. "Yeah." He shrugged and his gaze ducked, kicking one foot against the spongy turf. "I talked to her about the other day. She's…" he looked up at the horizon. Sebastian's heart stopped. The gloomy light illuminated Hunter's noble features. He was achingly beautiful. "She's alright, considering."

"'Considering'?" Sebastian prompted.

"Considering your dreadful manners." Hunter smirked. Sebastian laughed, "Yes, well, it's what I'm known for."

"For acting like a total dick all the time?" Hunter said archly.

Sebastian licked his lips, suddenly under the impression that this conversation held far more depth than he was previously aware. He looked at Hunter, his pulse loud in his ears. The other boy's face was unreadable, but as always, his gaze flickered slightly, betraying his thoughts. This was Hunter's tentative, clumsy way of initiating the discussion they had been meaning to have for weeks. Sebastian didn't think it would happen like this, on a misty afternoon on a Wednesday.

Sebastian swung the lacrosse stick down to the ground, gently prodding Hunter's toes with the head.

Suddenly, Sebastian knew he couldn't have this conversation now. The panic swelled, threatening to overwhelm him. Sebastian sighed noisily, his head lolling back, meeting Hunter's gaze. His mask slid into place.

"Hunt," Sebastian started, but before he could, the other boy had torn his eyes away. Sebastian paused. Hunter's profile was silhouetted against the dreamlike grey landscape.

"It doesn't matter," Hunter said after a while, his words sounding empty. He looked at the lacrosse stick against his toes.

Sebastian wanted to kiss him badly. His words could twist and tangle their way in any situation, always giving him the upper hand with everyone, until Hunter. Sebastian knew that words could be misconstrued, lost in translation. But he was a slave to his body: actions never lied. So he did what he knew best, and followed his instincts.

He leaned forward and placed his hand on Hunter's shoulder. As the other boy looked up, confused, Sebastian moved forward. The kiss was hard. Sebastian tried to let Hunter know what he was feeling in the way their lips slipped together, their breath hot between them. Hunter responded immediately, snaking his hands around Sebastian's waist and pulling them together. Sebastian gasped against Hunter's questing mouth, his pulse quick and steady in every fibre of his being. Being this close to Hunter, feeling the other boy's hard chest against his own, knees knocking… it was heady, irresistible. Sebastian's tongue slid along Hunter's; they both shivered. The lacrosse stick and Sebastian's traitorous mask fell abandoned to the grass.

Sebastian cupped the back of Hunter's neck, his fingers threading through the soft hair. Hunter exhaled sharply when Sebastian tugged a little too hard. They kissed for what felt like a very long time. Sebastian never wanted it to end.

Suddenly, Hunter broke away. Sebastian looked at him, dazed.

The other boy's eyes were averted from Sebastian; he licked his lips and reached up to touch the back of his neck, as if Sebastian had been an illusion and he trying to convince himself it had been real. Hunter closed his eyes tightly, looking pained.

His next words were carefully clipped of emotion. "Why do you do this to me, Seb?"

Sebastian felt like he was breaking. He threw caution to the wind and moved back into Hunter's space, resting his forehead against the other boy's cheekbone. Hunter smelt warm and boyish and a little like his mother's Chanel perfume. It made Sebastian smile sadly against Hunter's neck when he thought about how adamant Hunter would be if Sebastian told him this.

Hunter's breath was warm against his ear. Sebastian shivered. "This is too complicated," Hunter whispered eventually. He sounded desperate. "I don't know how to do this anymore."

Sebastian squeezed his eyes shut and touched a hand to Hunter's flat stomach, the warm body beneath his cold fingers cementing this memory in his mind. He knew he'd obsess over this moment later, alone, as he always did when Hunter was concerned.

"You're my best friend," Sebastian breathed. The words were broken. It sounded like an excuse, even to Sebastian's ears.

They were silent for a moment. Then, Hunter turned his head and pressed a kiss to Sebastian's jaw, just beneath his ear.

"I hate you," Hunter reminded him softly (the half-joke trembled between them: lies and deceit blooming like dying stars), and Sebastian laughed despite himself, sinking into Hunter's body and holding him tight.

* * *

**A/N **This chapter was insanely difficult to write. I know a lot of people want Hunter and Seb to skip happily into the distance - and I do too, but I just don't think it's realistic. This isn't the end of this story; we still have Sectionals to go! I hope you guys can see what I'm trying to do. Balancing a dynamic such as Hunter and Sebastian's has been incredibly rewarding, but utterly draining. They are each such a paradox, especially with each other. Attempting to create and maintain that balance is... hard. :p

Thank you, as always, for your incredibly encouraging and pleasing reviews. I can't tell you how I feel when I see that someone has followed, or favourited, or reviewed this little story. :3 I am a very happy bunny!

I'll be interested to see what you make of this chapter, and if you agree with me or not. Do tell me your thoughts/feels. When people pick up on the nuances in my writing, I feel like such a proud mama bear. Particular words and phrases are deliberate motifs. You are all so smart! I feel very lucky to be a part of such a supportive fandom. x


	8. moët

Sebastian tapped the pen against his teeth, the _click click click _in time with the clock. Sighing noisily, Sebastian lolled backwards in the chair, rustling the papers around in the hope it'd jumpstart the urge to study. It didn't.

Hunter was behind him on his bed, legs stretched out and crossed at the ankle. He had a laptop balanced across his thighs. The blue-white light of the laptop screen blurred with the hazy golden glow of the lamp. The other boy pursed his lips and rapidly deleted whatever he'd been typing.

"What're you doing," Sebastian said flatly. Hunter eyed him briefly before smirking. "You really should get that assignment done," he reminded Sebastian, gaze glued to his laptop. "Sectionals are in a few days and I need you to be in top form."

"Yes, sir!" Mock saluting, Sebastian laughed when Hunter shot him a sarcastic look. Resuming the tapping of his pen, Sebastian glanced back disinterestedly in his assignment. A mass of French phrases swam before his eyes. _When I am bored, I… _and underneath Sebastian had scrawled, _trouver un corps chaud.*_

"Merde," he mused, accentuating his written point by adding some exclamation marks. Sebastian exhaled and tossed down his pen, glaring at the sliver of darkness peeking from between the curtains. Stars punctured the night, twinkling enigmatically from their velvet canvas.

Sebastian drummed his fingers against the desk, but stopped when Hunter gave him a look that would curdle milk. He fidgeted with his homework for a few moments then got to his feet, stretching like a cat. Sebastian wandered over to the wardrobe and back, feeling rather than seeing Hunter's gaze burn his progress.

Sebastian, satisfied he'd at least got attention, flopped down onto his bed. Hunter cleared his throat and resumed typing. Sebastian stared at the ceiling.

It had been like this for a few days now. There was _something _hovering between them – Sebastian knew that their relationship was teetering on the brink of no return. If he made a move, and let Hunter know how he felt, he knew they'd… fuse. Hunter had been on his mind since day one, since the new boy with the heady eyes and straight back had slammed a well-aimed fist into Sebastian's beautiful mouth.

They touched now, which was better than before. That barrier had been broken by Sebastian's kiss on the damp sports field. Hands still hesitated before a back clap, or a knee shake, but they were there. Sebastian only this afternoon had worked up the nerve to slink an arm around Hunter's waist and murmur some catty remark. He'd been tense, expecting the other boy to become cold and taciturn, but instead Hunter had laughed happily, his body warm and solid under Sebastian's long fingers.

Sebastian groped for his iPod on the bedside table and started flicking through it. He'd lied to Hunter and told him that he'd picked out a song for Sectionals – but he hadn't. Sebastian felt like a lot of things rested on his song choice. Call him paranoid or whatever, but it was just a gut instinct. He knew the Warblers were talented enough to pick up a song only an _hour _before a competition and still nail it perfectly, each boy's individual drive and determination superseding an average adolescent. Dalton didn't breed mediocre; Dalton bred the best.

"Procrastination is a sign of mental weakness," Hunter commented silkily from his other bed.

Sebastian made a face without looking up, skipping past the K's on his artist list. "Good thing you're not doing Greek tonight," he replied, shooting Hunter a smirk; the other boy's face was stone. Sebastian just laughed at him, and Hunter allowed his façade to falter, a small smile flickering over his features. Moments like these made Sebastian want to get down on one knee for Hunter. _I'm fucking whipped. _He smiled at the memory.

Because he was bored, Sebastian let the next words fall from his mouth unchecked. "I'm choosing my solo for Sectionals," he said mildly, and immediately Hunter rounded on him.

"You haven't chosen your solo," he repeated stiffly.

"Vous ne pouvez pas précipiter la perfection!"* Sebastian twinkled. Hunter's glare could have boiled water.

"As my _co-captain _I would expect nothing less than perfection, Seb, and the fact that you have thrown this back in not only my face but the _Warblers_ as well -"

"Did you say co-captain?"

"Only serves to remind me that your juvenile – yes." Hunter looked suddenly guilty, as if he willed his words to be taken back.

"Well, I'm flattered." Sebastian propped himself up, iPod forgotten. He smiled, slightly puzzled. He kept talking in order to give himself time to think. "What changed your mind, darling? My charm, looks…? Go on, you can tell me, I won't be surprised. Really, I won't."

Hunter smiled greatfully, fully aware of this social lifesaver. His eyes dipped and Sebastian's heart fluttered. Hunter licked his lips and closed his laptop, swinging his legs over to plant his feet on the floor. He stared at the base of the lamp in determination. Hunter opened his mouth as if to speak, but no words emerged.

Sebastian turned back to his iPod, staring unseeingly at the screen. Distantly he was aware of the title of the song before him, but he didn't dwell on it. Sebastian bit his lip and turned to look at Hunter.

His skin prickled. Hunter's eyes pinned him to the bed. The other boy's gaze was dark and warm; Sebastian felt his body flush under the scrutiny.

Sebastian almost died when Hunter stood and moved towards him. He sat beside Sebastian's left leg, the mattress dipping a little. Taking the iPod from Sebastian's slack grip, Hunter put it on the bedside table. His hand shook imperceptibly.

"I think you know why I think of you as my co-captain," Hunter said quietly. He was still looking at the lamp. The light traced Hunter's aristocratic profile; Sebastian felt a pang of arousal. Hunter's body was warm against his thigh.

Sebastian reached out and touched Hunter's jaw, turning the other boy to face him. Hunter's eyes were wide, his eyelashes smudged in the honeyed light. His mouth was opened slightly; Sebastian traced a thumb along the bottom lip. Hunter's breathing hitched. They were so close.

_Make a move, _Sebastian willed him. _Please touch me. _He had initiated each touch between them, even that time when Hunter had found him in the change rooms. Hunter had hovered long enough at the doorway for Sebastian to drag him into the shower himself, his hands and voice luring Hunter's body like a siren call.

Hunter moved forwards, holding himself up by a hand on either side of Sebastian's form. Hunter flickered above him, his muscles tense, as if preparing himself to spring away. Sebastian cupped Hunter's face and waited.

After a breathless pause, Hunter kissed him. It was slow and deliberate, dragging Sebastian toward him like a magnet. Their lips melted together, tongues hot and slick and so very _right. _Sebastian's groin tightened and he arched upwards, snaking a hand around Hunter's waist, his fingers in the dip above the other boy's arse. Hunter exhaled shakily, his body so heavy and warm. He dropped to his elbows, pressing their chests together. Sebastian squirmed desperately under the weight, pushing his hips up, a breathless plea passing his lips. Hunter bit Sebastian's lip and straddled him; Sebastian pounded with lust, his thoughts quickly zeroing in on Hunter's lips, Hunter's hands, Hunter's body… He brutally turned the tide, dominating their kiss in a heartbeat, pulling Hunter hard against him. His fingers tangled in Hunter's hair.

As Hunter responded fervently, kissing and biting and licking, Sebastian knew instantly that he would submit to Hunter. The thought of the other boy dominating him, pressing inside him… Sebastian almost keened with the intense rush of arousal that flooded his body. His dick jerked in his jeans – and as if summoned, Hunter thrust his hips downwards, dragging their groins together with agonizing pleasure. Sebastian flushed and gasped, unlatching his mouth to pant in Hunter's ear. They rutted together slowly; Sebastian linked his legs around the body above him, the new position making them both moan in unison.

It was the rhythm, slow as molasses and just as sweet, that made Sebastian faint with want. He bit Hunter's earlobe as their hips aligned perfectly, smothering the urge to cry out.

Suddenly, the mood changed.

Hunter growled against Sebastian's neck and bit at the pulse point. Sebastian's body jerked upwards on impulse, but he was trapped beneath Hunter's heady weight. The other boy straightened up, his hips snug against Sebastian's own. The light cast a golden light across Hunter's beautiful form. His eyes were dark puddles, his lips red and bruised from kissing. Sebastian had never seen anything as erotic in his life. Hunter pulled his t-shirt over his head, his muscled arms rippling in the glow, revealing a washboard stomach. If it was possible, Sebastian grew harder at the sight. Feeling Sebastian's dick against his own, Hunter grinned wickedly, his eyes boring into Sebastian's as he thrust once, his body elastic and glorious. Sebastian's chest moved rapidly, his breath catching in his throat. He struggled upwards and tore off his own shirt. Hunter's eyes dragged along Sebastian's bare chest; Sebastian shuddered, his mind blank with lust.

Sebastian's hand tightened at the small of Hunter's back and reached up to twist a nipple painfully between his fingers. Hunter gasped jerkily and rolled his hips forward; Sebastian moaned with the delicious friction.

Hunter's eyes fluttered and then refocused with a dark intensity. He growled and shoved Sebastian back against the bed, fingers deftly pulling open his jeans and shunted them down his bronze legs. Sebastian's erection quivered in the cold air, his underwear tented obscenely. Hunter threw Sebastian's jeans onto the floor and tore off his own.

They kissed again furiously, Sebastian's thoughts swimming shallowly in his mind. Hunter thrust erratically, their dicks colliding and slipping together. Suddenly, Sebastian felt his climax shoot towards him. He panted, gripping Hunter's hot body close to his own. His stomach shivered with the ripple of his orgasm. Hunter drew away from Sebastian's mouth, a line of saliva connecting them. His head lolled back, his arms shuddering with the effort as he drove down again and again against Sebastian's hips. It was the look of Hunter's face - the way his eyes squeezed closed with concentration, his lips huge and wet – that made Sebastian's orgasm completely engulf him. He cried out with Hunter, each of their climaxes torn from their bodies. The headboard of the bed banged with finality against the wallpaper.

Sebastian's mind was black. There was nothing except Hunter's burning body above him, the other boy moving to one side to collapse beside Sebastian. They breathed heavily, bare chests gleaming with sweat, underwear soiled and damp. Sebastian's afterglow was intense; nothing existed except for his sweetly aching groin and the overwhelming heat rolling off Hunter's shuddering form.

He fought to catch his breath and licked his lips.

"Baise-moi," he breathed, eyes closed. "Jesus, Hunt." He laughed shakily.

Hunter began to laugh beside him; Sebastian turned his head to watch. The slope of Hunter's proud Roman nose was silhouetted against the fuzzy golden light. His eyelashes cut a slash of black against his slightly tanned skin.

Hunter caught Sebastian's eye and grinned at him.

Sebastian's heart suddenly swooped at the sight and he knew in that instant that no matter what – no matter _what _happened from this point on – he loved Hunter with everything he had. They were brothers, lovers; they were one person. Sebastian was totally overwhelmed with the power of his thoughts. He surged forward and captured Hunter in a kiss, the awkward angle hurting his neck but warming his heart. They kissed sloppily, drunkenly, and when they parted, Hunter's cheeks were flushed with something other than exertion.

They were silent for a moment. Sebastian twisted his body to face Hunter, propping his head up on one gangly arm, ignoring the gross stickiness of his underwear. "I've chosen my song for Sectionals."

Hunter laughed again, his eyebrows crinkling in confusion. He grinned. "Have you really?"

"You'll hate me."

Hunter looked like he wanted to say something like _impossible, _and perhaps that word tiptoed across his lips, but instead he made a face of solemn acknowledgement. Sebastian smirked and shoved Hunter's chest, laughing.

"It's by One Direction," Sebastian said mock confidentially, shuffling closer to Hunter. The other boy's eyes glittered. Their faces were very close. Hunter's words dipped: "I thought you didn't like boy's clubs," he teased, referring to one of Sebastian's dismissive terms for his Greek obsession. "What song?"

Sebastian memorized the sight before him: Hunter, soft and vulnerable, lungs working slowly, gaze gentle and warm. "_Live While We're Young,_" he whispered.

Hunter was quiet for a moment. He kissed Sebastian. The frankness of the movement made Sebastian stutter; he was lost for words. Hunter smiled, eyes half-lidded.

* * *

The walls of the mansion reverberated with the bass, which thudded heavily in Sebastian's chest. The music was ear-splittingly loud, so much so that people could barely talk; they communicated by coy eye flirtation and suggestive body language alone. Alcohol was flowing like water – Sebastian wondered briefly where the host's parents were, but then again, this was upper-class Ohio. People didn't bother with trivial things like that.

Sebastian's lacrosse team had won their last game, and they were celebrating in style. Their opponents, a boarding school from Columbus, were good sports, and the captain of their team had shouted a party for both of them. Word, of course, had spread, which resulted in the current situation.

People spilled out of the mansion and onto the vast lawns, laughing and drinking and selling themselves shamelessly. Half of Dalton's senior year had been dragged out by the lacrosse team. The teachers tended to turn a blind eye when the end of term rolled around – something which Sebastian was incredibly thankful for as he lolled on a loveseat in one of the sumptuously decorated rooms, a bottle of Moët swinging heartily from one hand and legs draped across Hunter's lap.

Hunter looked so fucking sexy. The other boy's hair was messy, some strands falling before lazy bedroom eyes. Hunter's grins were slow, his laughs often. His t-shirt was obscenely tight, the jeans clinging lewdly to shapely legs. Sebastian knew he wasn't the only one that noticed. It seemed like the party revolved around them, the two most beautiful young people in the entire world. Sebastian couldn't stop touching Hunter. It was like he was marking him.

The music dropped into a heady, seductive beat. Sebastian felt the music pound through him. He took another gulp of champagne. Hunter reached over and flapped a hand impatiently for the bottle; his Adam's apple bobbed as he drank deeply. He wiped away a stream of alcohol from his mouth. Sebastian watched with heavy eyes.

He didn't know a quarter of the people at the party. Sometimes he'd catch a glimpse of a Dalton boy, somewhat foreign out of uniform, their forms slipped between party guests like ghosts. He could have also sworn he'd seen some members of the Nude Erections, but that was impossible. This wasn't their sort of scene – they'd be far more at home in some basement somewhere, wailing out some drunken karaoke.

Sebastian stretched out, his t-shirt riding up on his stomach. He felt utterly content. Hunter's body was warm beside him, he'd won lacrosse, and now he was at a raging party with his sort of people, drinking like a fish and having an absolute ball. He laughed stupidly at some inaudible comment by a girl sitting on Hunter's right. She looked vaguely familiar.

Suddenly, Hunter leaned over and in one delicious moment, his body was leaning fully along Sebastian's. Hunter's mouth found Sebastian's ear. "We should dance," he murmured.

"You'll embarrass yourself," Sebastian teased, to which Hunter smiled against his cheek and breathed, "Let's show them what we've got."

The challenge slithered into Sebastian's slightly tipsy brain. As Hunter pulled away with a knowing smirk, Sebastian grinned in acceptance. They got to their feet and swept towards the thickest knot of people, all grinding to the heavy bass. Their group of five-minute friends called after them; Sebastian just shoved the Moët at someone and wrapped his arms possessively around Hunter's waist, making it difficult to walk, but easier to think.

When they had buried their way into the crowd, Hunter turned in Sebastian's arms. His pupils were massive, his grin dirty. Sebastian's pulse raced. The music hummed through him as they started to grind. Sebastian was reminded of all his empty nights, dancing with loser after loser, all panting after his hot piece of ass. And here he was, high on fucking _life, _with Hunter Clarington's hips rolling steadily against his thigh. Sebastian let the music take him, pulling Hunter close. The crowd pushed in on all sides. It was stiflingly hot, the smell of sweat and expensive alcohol saturating the air. Their bodies were crushed together by the number of people surrounding them. Sebastian lost himself in the familiarity of Hunter's sensuous body and the pulsing beat. Time did not exist.

Hunter bent close and kissed Sebastian's neck; he bared his throat and closed his eyes. Hunter's mouth worked on bronze skin, hands gripping them tightly together.

Suddenly, Sebastian became aware of another body interrupting their bubble. The hard chest pushed against Sebastian's back, and as Sebastian tore himself sluggishly out of Hunter's presence, another mouth latched onto the other side of his neck.

He moaned involuntarily, the sensation of being trapped between two men running through him with a thrill. Sebastian caught Hunter's gaze briefly, as if for approval. The expression he saw in the other boy's eyes was more than enough: Hunter was turned on. They both wanted more.

The three of them rolled together, Hunter and Sebastian now kissing possessively as foreign hands laid siege to the exposed skin above Sebastian's belt. They broke apart, and the stranger leaned forward to kiss Hunter – and it happened so suddenly, Sebastian saw the scene in slow motion – his heart skipping, stomach dropping, something akin to extreme, overwhelming _jealousy _coursing through his veins – but Hunter turned away, and the guy nosed his jaw instead, growling inaudibly into his left ear.

Sebastian caught Hunter's eyes. In that instant, Sebastian saw Hunter's feelings laid completely bare. The other boy's mouth was twisted. The dull blue light slipped and smudged his features like charcoal. Sebastian grabbed the back of Hunter's neck and kissed him hungrily, conveying all he could not and would never say.

"Let's get some air," he whispered in Hunter's unoccupied ear when they drew apart. Sebastian untangled himself from the stranger and took Hunter's hand, and led the way through the claustrophobic crowd. Bodies buffeted them all the way into the hallway and down the stairs. It was only when they emerged into the bitter night air that their hands parted.

The courtyard was reasonably full of people. They stood in clumps, laughing and talking, glasses tinkling with the dull beat of the music inside. A perverse sight greeted them at the far side of the courtyard: a line of athletes, lost in the uninhibited atmosphere of all parties, the ends of their cigarettes blooming brilliantly in the gloom. Sebastian grinned at the sight and turned to tell Hunter, who laughed appreciatively. The sound warmed Sebastian's chest.

"C'mon." Sebastian sauntered over to a group of about five guys; he recognized some of them from the game this afternoon. "Can we bum a light?" he asked lazily, hands in pockets.

"Sure man," one of them mumbled around his cigarette. Their conversation continued around them, one of the guys giving a play-by-play analysis of some football game.

Emerging victorious, Sebastian and Hunter slipped away from the group, cigarettes held confidently in hands. Sebastian glanced curiously into one of the half-open glass doors fringing the courtyard and shrugged. Hunter shouldered his way through and glanced back at Sebastian, his eyes dark and questioning. The light gleamed over his magnified pupils, his face half obscured, looking simultaneously impish and lascivious. Sebastian followed without a word.

The sounds of the party drifted in and out of Sebastian's hearing as they wandered along. The corridor was deserted except for an empty cup or two. It ran along for a way, dotted with shadowy canvas furniture. Their arms brushed together as they walked.

When Sebastian took a deep pull of his cigarette, exhaling the cloud of grey-blue smoke into the dim light, he noticed Hunter holding his cigarette to one side. It burned low towards his fingers.

"You gonna smoke that or preserve it?" Sebastian asked. Hunter caught his eye and frowned, looking at his cigarette as if he'd forgotten about it.

"I don't know how," Hunter admitted thoughtfully. Sebastian knocked elbows and gave him a look. "You can't be serious."

"Military school," Hunter said by way of explanation, watching his cigarette burn out. He tossed it into the dark, the orange glow vanishing instantly.

The corridor was coming to an end. The walls flickered with turquoise patterns. When Hunter pushed open the double doors, Sebastian laughed in delight.

A gigantic indoor pool was before them, completely empty. The only light came from the dim underwater lamps, making the whole thing radiate mysteriously in the night.

"Well, we have two options." Sebastian leaned against the doorway, resting his head back. Hunter stood deliberately close, his breathing slow and steady. "We can either have a secret midnight swim, or," Sebastian grinned lazily, bringing his cigarette to his lips, "we can shotgun."

Hunter crowded Sebastian, his hands on Sebastian's hips, thumbs brushing the exposed skin. A leg snaked its sneaky way between Sebastian's own. "Whilst the former implies a lack of clothing," Hunter reasoned (Sebastian felt a flare of arousal), "the latter sounds exciting and dangerous."

"What a coincidence," Sebastian replied silkily, "those are my middle names."

Hunter grinned darkly. Sebastian drew on his cigarette, inhaling the sharp smoke deep into his lungs. It rested there for a moment as Sebastian straightened a little, his face moving closer to Hunter's. "Hold still," he murmured, lungs burning. Slowly, he exhaled into Hunter's mouth. The other boy inhaled, his eyes fluttering shut. The remaining smoke curled around Hunter's face like a lover's touch, whispering over his smooth features. Sebastian watched Hunter exhale with heavily lidded eyes, and when Hunter recovered, he moved in and kissed him.

Hunter responded slowly, sucking Sebastian's tongue into his mouth. Even in his slightly dizzy state, Sebastian was amazed at how easily Hunter could conjure a response from him. Stolen touches and invisible words; they were never enough. Sebastian drank up Hunter's presence like a man dying of thirst. Every time Hunter's fingers would brush his skin, it was a flare of electricity.

Sebastian snuck a hand up Hunter's shirt, fingers brushing against a hard nipple. Hunter inhaled jerkily and kissed Sebastian deeper, his hands a tattoo against Sebastian's trembling skin.

* * *

Much later, they returned to the party, resuming command of their loveseat as if they'd never left. The crowd and music hadn't thinned, people gyrating and flirting with just as much intent as before. When Sebastian leaned forwards to poke through the collection of bottles on the antique table, a girl on his right caught his attention.

"Are you two dating?" she asked, eyes soft and coy. She was very pretty, but she had breasts and smelled like a flower shop.

Sebastian glanced over at Hunter, talking rapidly and happily to the girl he'd taken to the mixer. Hunter made a comment and Rosa giggled. The music thrummed between them.

"We're just friends," he yelled at the girl. "I'm gay," he added when her smile turned dangerous. "Sorry, honey." Sebastian winked and downed the last of a bottle of vodka, the crystal gleaming in the low lamp light.

* * *

**A/N **As a reward, you have this behemoth of a chapter! :) As you can see, Sebastian and Hunter are finally, finally reaching a mutual understanding in their relationship. The permanent change to Sebastian's voice is deliberate - I'll be interested to hear why you guys might think this is... ;)

I think I have one more chapter to go for this baby. Sectionals, hooray! I have been analysing and rewatching the Warbler's (not exactly an unwanted task, mind you) performance just so I get stuff right. My interpretation and understanding of Seb and Hunter's dynamic is evolving all the time. After a mini breakdown after the last chapter, I pulled it together just in time to finally GET WHAT I WANTED TO SAY. I know what I want from them - and, I think, they know what they want from each other too.

All of your reviews just warms my heart. I check them obsessively and I read every single word. Thank you, thank you, times a million. Your support is absolutely amazing and, tbh, it's blown me away. Who knew this lil crackship had so much love?

Let me know absolutely all of your thoughts. In many ways, I feel like we're all writing this fic. Dorky, I know.

* _Find a warm body._

* _You can't rush perfection._


	9. completion

The girl wasn't leaving Sebastian alone. She touched him at regular intervals, slender fingers tripping along his forearm like piano keys. Her eyes, heavy with makeup and flirtation, watched him as intently as a hawk. A wave of blonde curls was slung over one shoulder, her dress tight and expensive.

When her tinkling laugh cut through Sebastian's involved story about a party he'd been to the other week, it was enough.

"Honey, look." Sebastian sat up, swaying a little with booze. The party was still going strong, although less people were dancing now, and more were making out. Hunter's body was warm beside him; he'd been talking to that Rosa chick for what felt like hours, both of them close and cosy, giggling like children. "You're gorgeous," Sebastian started. He motioned vaguely at her feminine assets. "But believe me when I say that I am _gay. _I like dick." Her eyes didn't move from his, her pink lips hitched into a smirk. "To be more specific," Sebastian yelled over the pounding music, "I like _his _dick."

The girl's gaze skittered over Hunter, taking in the other boy's rowing physique; his aristocratic, military bearing. She looked back at Sebastian, the smirk now far darker than before. "Oh, I've noticed," she said, her face close to Sebastian's, "which is why I'm helping you out."

When Sebastian frowned, puzzled, she added: "Look baby boy, I know when I see a whipped puppy when I see one, and you're about as hangdog as a mutt at a rescue shelter."

Disbelief fluttered through him. Sebastian gave her a strange look and leaned away. "Okay, this is too weird for me." He laughed at her determined expression and offered her a half-empty bottle someone had thrust into his hand a while ago. "You're not drunk enough to be saying shit like that, and I'm not drunk enough to listen to it. So c'mon, down the hatch."

Smiling daintily, she took the bottle and took a not-so-ladylike swig. "Woah." They both laughed giddily, alcohol warming their veins. Giggling, the girl gave Sebastian back the bottle, the dim light of the party hiding her eyes.

"Darling, you now have my permission to cease and desist in your fag haggery." Sebastian clumsily patted her hand. "Now, go get some heterosexual lovin' and leave me the fuck alone."

"I really don't think you get what I'm saying, Queertopia."

Sebastian turned back to look at her, face blank. He'd had his fair share of homophobia – this was Ohio, after all – but his type of people didn't tend to concern themselves with things like sexuality. As far as his wealthy generation was concerned, sex was sex. Sebastian narrowed his eyes at this jumped-up blonde piece.

"Listen here, Barbie," Sebastian said, voice deadly cool, "you either get out of my face, or I let drop a few choice pieces of information with your name and various sexually transmitted diseases in the same breath. Your choice, really."

But the girl only grinned. Sebastian turned fully towards her, incredulity colouring his features. Just what was this chick's problem? He resisted the urge to glance to Hunter for some backup. Sebastian was more than able to take care of himself.

"I'm Kitty," the girl said coyly, twisting a piece of hair away from her face.

"That's cute," Sebastian sneered. "Mind if I call you Pussy?"

Kitty glared at him, but instead of retaliating, she expertly changed tack. "I've noticed how you look at that piece of meat you call a boyfriend, and I'd like to give you some advice, girl to girl."

"Okay, look, he's not my boyfriend," Sebastian replied, all trace of amusement gone from his tone. He irritably took a deep pull of whatever he was holding. Why wouldn't this chick just let him go?

"Fine, your _girlfriend _then, whatever." Kitty recrossed her legs and leaned back into Sebastian's space, her dress gaping obscenely at the front. He focused on her prominent sternum, the creamy skin stretched too tightly over the gentle bone. "The point is, sweetie pie, you gotta back off before you get burned like a Fourth of July firecracker. Let me tell you a little trade secret: he's not interested."

Despite himself, Sebastian frowned, his mind fuzzy. "He is," he assured her. "It's… really complicated."

When Kitty raised her eyebrows in disbelief, Sebastian elaborated. "We… we've had like this _thing. _I keep him around to make things… interesting." Sebastian wasn't stupid or drunk enough to spill his guts to some perfume-drenched babe at a grungy lacrosse party, but the bare bones of what he felt still hovered to the surface. His heart hammered with his secret thoughts; the way that Hunter would look at him, his eyes sliding surreptitiously over Sebastian, as if preserving the image forever. The way they'd laid together the other night, laughing and joking and pressing long-healed wounds, legs tangled and homework forgotten.

"As Hallmark card as that sounds, I'm just saying that you should keep that big ol' heart of yours locked up nice and good." Kitty took the bottle and had another drink, her eyes low and confidential. Something gleamed in her gaze, something that made Sebastian wonder if this advice was as much for him as it was for her. "Sometimes things are easier when feelings aren't involved."

Maybe it was because he was a little drunk; maybe it was because he was boneless with alcohol and sex, Hunter's lovebite still burning on his inner thigh. But Sebastian turned away from Kitty and hid his expression in a pull of vodka, his thoughts whirling in confusion and doubt.

"If you need proof," Kitty murmured, a warning hand on his wrist, "check out Red and your boy. He's pretty keen for a queer."

"I don't own him," Sebastian snapped suddenly, pulling his arm away. "We're not anything. He can do whatever the fuck he wants." Looking away from Kitty's unreadable expression, Sebastian didn't let himself look at Rosa and Hunter, but instead swept the room with a predatory gaze. His eyes snagged on a dark haired stranger lolling by a marble bust of Plato. The boy looked hot. That was all there was to it.

"Go get some," Kitty called sweetly as Sebastian got to his feet and stalked over to his conquest, easy as a panther and twice as dangerous.

* * *

Hunter grinned as Rosa laughed, their conversation humming between them easily. They'd been talking for a while now, Rosa telling him about Country Day and her school before that, her family, her favourite subjects. She was a transfer like him, and they'd bonded over alcohol-fuelled admissions of isolation.

Rosa was beautiful. Her skin was soft and luminous, her doe eyes fringed with soft, mahogany lashes. Hunter focused on the constellation of ginger freckles across her face and the way a copper curl caught itself in the corner of her mouth. He pulled it away with a gentle finger and she smiled.

"I'm glad I found you here," Rosa said lowly, her voice almost lost in the incessant music. "You never texted me back after the mixer."

"Worried I'd forgotten about you?" Hunter teased. Rosa slapped his arm and laughed. "I'm not that desperate," she replied. "But we had a good time, didn't we?"

Unbidden, the memory of that night swam to the forefront of his mind: Sebastian's metronome hips swaying to Sinatra's croon, spiked punch, a claustrophobic ballroom. Hunter was about to fob her off with a plastic grin when he caught her gaze. She levelled him with intelligent eyes, her clever mind and quick conversation making him smile with genuine contentment. It was nice to find solace in an easy, uncomplicated relationship. Rosa kept up with him easily, often striking Hunter dumb with a well-considered point or argument. But she knew when to back off, and they happily shared many conversation topics, their banter fluid. It wasn't as haywire as it was with Sebastian (Hunter almost in a constant state of panic, frustration, and lust), but it was a pleasant respite, and Hunter was happy with it.

The thought of Sebastian made Hunter glance towards him, the other boy sitting at the other end of the loveseat. It felt like there was too much space between them, although their thighs were a whisper away, and Hunter could have leaned over and bit Sebastian's ear if he wanted to. Sebastian was in the middle of a terse exchange with a blonde girl, his mouth pulling down in irritation at the corners, taking swigs of his drink as if to distract himself. Hunter could tell when Sebastian was on edge; he was struck with a desire to wrap a hand around Sebastian's waist, breath a dirty suggestion against his cheekbone. And Sebastian would catch his heavy gaze, and Hunter would be lost.

When Hunter tuned back into Rosa, who was chatting happily about colleges, he was suddenly aware of something: he could have her, if he wanted. Rosa looked at him enough to suggest she was attracted to him, her smiles too wide, her cheeks too flushed. She was petite and feminine – altogether a pleasant, safe package. Hunter watched her talk, his mind sluggishly thinking it through. Was it the booze talking? Or did he really want her?

He was startled out of his reprieve when Sebastian rose out of the corner of his eye. Hunter watched as Sebastian loped across the room. As he leaned close to a swarthy-skinned boy. As he turned on the charm as easily as flicking a switch.

Jealousy twisted in his stomach. Hunter had been gradually letting himself go with Sebastian. It was as difficult as lowering himself into a vat of boiling water; he had to go inch by inch, or risk being scalded. Sebastian had been coaxing him with soft eyes and caresses which made Hunter flush with arousal and a deep something that he wanted to label _love. _Their friendship had fused and strengthened in a way that still surprised Hunter; surely adding sex to the equation should, by all rights, complicate matters? He used to think that, before Sebastian had kissed him on the lacrosse field, his uniform damp and eyes slow and words trembling. Hunter knew in that moment that Sebastian had fallen into something he didn't quite understand, but didn't want to climb out of. It was a void that threatened to swallow them both. Hunter let the darkness cover him.

But Hunter couldn't shake the layers of protection that he had spent years building. Sometimes, when it was just he and Sebastian, when it was just warmth and soft fingers and gentle kisses, he let himself go. Hunter's walls fell down, and he didn't try to put them back up.

It was difficult and painful. They would be teasing one another, prodding old wounds and making barbed comments. And Hunter would be reminded of just whom he was dealing with: Sebastian Smythe, master of deception and king of manipulation.

Hunter was almost there. He had almost surrendered to Sebastian. _Give me time._

"Hunter?" Rosa's voice swam into his consciousness. He turned to look at her, smiling genially. Rosa grinned hesitantly in response, and - it happened so quickly Hunter thought he'd imagined it – her eyes flickered over to Sebastian and the strange boy, the glow of the party lights making her gaze dark.

"So, you and Sebastian," she started, her tone stiff with nonchalance. Hunter couldn't stop the small that flashed across his lips. Rosa noticed it and cocked her head, her eyes bright with interest. "What's the story?"

Hunter laughed and ran a hand through his hair. "We're best friends," he replied truthfully.

"Only friends?" Rosa pressed. Hunter licked his lips and glanced back to Sebastian. The other boy had a hand on the stranger's waist, murmuring something wicked in his ear. As Hunter watched, they left the room, their forms swallowed up by the heaving crowd.

Hunter waited for the jealousy to resurface, but he didn't feel anything more than a dull pang of… something. "Yeah," he confirmed, smiling when Rosa gave him a playful incredulous look.

"You're pretty close," Rosa noted. Hunter shrugged. "It's complicated," he admitted. His eyes again travelled over to the bust of Plato. "We're just a… thing. It's kind of difficult to explain."

"That sounds like it's 'something'," she said tentatively. "I mean, I know I haven't known you two long, but it's hard to miss sometimes."

Hunter looked at her, interested. "What do you mean?"

"Well." Rosa considered him thoughtfully. "You clearly harbour feelings for each other. And it's like you're touching even when you're not." She blinked slowly, the steady trickle of alcohol obviously now really hitting her bloodstream. "You're just…" Rosa shrugged. "Together. I know that doesn't make any sense."

"It does," Hunter said softly, after a pause. "Does that…" he cleared his throat and took a sip of beer, "does that… I don't know, bother -"

"I'm your friend, Hunter." Rosa smiled warmly and reached over to take his hand. "I mean, if that's okay with you. I'd like to be friends."

Hunter grinned softly and, before he really thought about it, he was struck with an urge to kiss her; so he did. It was an innocent press of lips that meant nothing, but Hunter wanted to convey how he felt; how greatful and happy he was in that very instant. She pulled away after only a moment, her cheeks warm.

"But rule number one," Rosa said, raising an unsteady finger. "No pulling stunts like that."

Hunter laughed, his chest bursting with pleasure. And after a second, Rosa laughed as well, tucking her chin into her chest, her giggles rippling like champagne bubbles. She tucked a long lock of copper hair behind one ear and smiled at Hunter, her eyes big and content.

"If only you had a twin," she lamented, sighing theatrically and touching her heart. Hunter laughed in delight. The party was snug around their bubble, and he felt utterly complete.

* * *

The night before Sectionals, they made love. Hunter reached for Sebastian in the darkness, question fingers seeking warmth; a shelter in this storm. They'd kissed slowly, savoring each fragile, thundering moment. Flares of heat and shivering skin. Gentle touches and humming pulses. Sebastian fell into Hunter, letting himself touch Hunter with a sureness and hesitation that he never thought himself capable of. Hunter, used to rough gropes and sharp climaxes, shuddered in this drawn out utopia, their skin sliding together, their hearts beating as one. Sebastian was the one to roll over and loop his legs around Hunter and breathe _Please._

They are reborn.

* * *

Beyond the heavy velvet curtain, the crowd moved restlessly, the steady buzz of conversation sending nerves to flutter through Hunter's stomach.

He was a seasoned performer – he'd been on the stage for as long as he could remember, a real theatre-kid, through and through – but the thrilling first moments before he stepped onto that marvellous stage, the spotlight warming his body, the ripple of a settling crowd, an opening scene…

Hunter could protest his love for Greek and law and art as much as he wanted. A stage was where he belonged.

"How're you doing, captain?"

Hunter's heart quivered at that familiar drawl. He didn't turn around, but felt Sebastian's solid presence behind him. They were the only ones in the wings; the rest of the Warblers were clamouring in and out of their green room, excited as puppies.

"We're going to win." As soon as the words passed his lips, Hunter knew it was true. The Warblers were in a condition they'd never been before – despite learning Sebastian's solo and dance steps only a few days ago, they were raring to go, straining at the collar, ready to unleash their prowess on the Sectionals stage. Hunter had cast an appraising eye over the New Directions when they'd arrived, and one look at that motley group of ragtag middle-class plebs had convinced him of a Warblers victory.

But when Sebastian chuckled behind him, Hunter's body swelled with another sort of victory.

"It's all thanks to you," Sebastian said, his voice low. He paused, and then Hunter felt a hand brush over his own. He shivered. "You're not a half-bad captain, you know."

Hunter turned to look at Sebastian. The dim light backstage made Sebastian's eyes gleam darkly, his skin soft and smooth. They stood close together, sharing their body heat. Hunter thought about their set list; how the two songs chosen so perfectly mirrored he and Sebastian's spontaneous, complicated relationship. They hadn't a care in the world, and it was perfect.

"_We're _not half-bad," Hunter corrected with a smirk. Sebastian laughed and took Hunter's hand, the gesture so intimate it felt like his entire world shifted. Nothing was ever certain with Sebastian. Hunter was drunk on him.

The other Warblers trickled into the wings, jittery with nerves. As the emcee started rolling off the names of the judges, Sebastian squeezed Hunter's hand.

They looked at each other as whispers of luck flickered around them. Sebastian grinned slowly, his eyes heavy and low.

"Let's knock 'em dead," Sebastian said and Hunter knew that no matter what, this boy – his enemy, his lover, his only Achilles Heel – had changed him forever, and they could never go back.

* * *

**A/N** We're reached the end of this story! Thank you, as always, for your wonderful, wonderful support. This has been such a harrowing week, but we made it! /Mexican wave

I think I'll need a break before I write any other fics, but what would people think of an AU future Huntbastian fic...? Just an idea, just an idea. :p I just have an image of Hunter and Seb in New York having all these complicated relationships and yet continually returning to one another. Expensive suits and glittering penthouses and champagne, et cetera.

Also, Kitty: I love her.

Now, my children, tell me of your feels for this fic, and let me smooth the hair back from your forehead and whisper the words of _Whistle _to you. I am so feelsy rn and it's not PMS. I love Hunter and Sebastian so much, and I hope that by sharing this story with you, I've in some way made you love them too.

Thank you for reading this story of mine. It means more to me than you can imagine.


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